What Happened Last Night?
by duskomybloom
Summary: Things get complicated when Dan wakes up in Phil's bed after a party and he has no idea how he got there.
1. Chapter 1

Struggling to hold onto his sleep, where he'd been dreaming something that was out of his grasp now but left a warm, fuzzy feeling in his belly, Dan felt a headache worming its way through his consciousness. As the last dregs of sleep slunk away, it became a dull pounding, not only in his head, but also in his entire body, as though he'd ran a few miles before bed last night. In his back, in his stomach, in his arms, behind his eyes, even in his dry lips, and somewhere else that had no good reason to hurt-

His eyes fluttered open and immediately he slammed then shut against the piercing sunlight filtering in, though it was on the opposite side of the room than it ought to be, and he caught a glance of a blue and green duvet covering him. It took him a few confused moments to figure out he must be in Phil's room. This didn't alarm him at first; the two had sleepovers every once in a while so they could stay up well into the night talking and playing games, sure (especially if they'd watched one of Phil's horror movies and Dan was scared to go back to the darkness of his own room), but he had no memory of coordinating any sort of sleepover recently.

Dan shifted in the bed, earning himself another biting pain both from his head and other parts of his body again that spiked worry through his mind. He groaned at the discomfort sleepily, only just realizing that if they'd indeed had a sleepover then Phil was probably on the floor sleeping, and perhaps he should be quieter. He also came to the uncomfortable conclusion that he was stark naked under these sheets as they rustled against his bare skin.

What had he done last night? Had he been horribly drunk? He tried to backtrack.

Ah, yes... they'd gone to a party. It had been Friday night, and he hadn't wanted to go, but Phil convinced him that they needed to be out and more sociable if they were to keep moving forward with their careers, and besides, they needed to be a good example for people who didn't get out much. "Come on, let yourself have fun for once! It won't be bad."

"Phil," Dan had whined, "But... can you just stay with me? And can we go home early?"

"I'll stay with you for a little bit, but you have to find someone to talk to! Come on, Dan, people always like you. You're not as awkward as you always say." He'd patted Dan lovingly on the shoulder then. "And I'm not letting us go home until you've made a friend. Alright?"

"Fine," Dan muttered gloomily, and they'd prepared themselves for the party.

The occasion was bigger than either of the boys had imagined. The simple "house party" that had been described int the invite was far outdone by a near mansion of a home, complete with a DJ, a bar, and people dressed to the nines everywhere they looked. Phil got them some drinks ("We're walking home, anyway," he told Dan), and tried unsuccessfully to get Dan to dance for a while; when it was apparent that Dan was too displeased by the amount of people here to do anything other than sulk, Phil gave up, leaving Dan to his own devices. "Maybe I'll send someone over here," Phil offered, and Dan scowled. "You could end up liking them! Promise me you'll be nice if I do."

Dan muttered something that wasn't a yes or a no, earning a stern look from Phil before he left to go socialize. Dan wandered around for a while, not saying a word to anyone, keeping his head down so no one would recognize him in the sea of bodies. Finally he sat down at the bar, contemplating what to do until Phil got back.

Dan eventually resigned himself to staying near the bartender and getting absolutely shitfaced. He'd make up someone that he'd have met, just to appease Phil; he was good at that, and there were too many people in here to tell if he was lying about it, anyway.

His memory started to get hazy after a few drinks, but he remembered a bit of dancing... not why, or who danced with him, though he must have met up with Phil at some point if he had got home alright. And Phil had... let him use his bed? That was nice... although completely unnecessary. The horrible thought crossed his mind that he might have puked on his own; the image made him shudder.

He sat up a little and blinked, trying to see, shielding his eyes against the blinding glare from the window. Directly in front of him on Phil's nightstand was an empty liquor bottle Dan hadn't seen before, and he wondered both if he'd been the one to drink it and if he'd stolen it from the party. He felt out for his phone in the sheets beside him so he could check the time- and all the sudden he came into contact with something warm and fleshy.

He jumped, then froze, not wanting to look over and see who was next to him.

Had he taken someone home last night? He hadn't taken someone home in ages. It would have been incredibly rude, especially in Phil's bed... how could he have thought that was okay? Once again, he considered that he may have puked in his own, and perhaps Phil had surrendered his bed... or, maybe Phil had gone home with someone else? That didn't seem likely; Phil just wasn't the type. Dan didn't remember any girls he himself had fancied at the party... then again, he didn't remember much of anything from last night, and he could have very drunkenly stolen Phil's bed without thinking anything of it at the time. Perhaps Phil was making use of Dan's bed. Dan would have to apologize as soon as he could.

Time to figure out who this mystery person was... because if it was someone he knew, he had a big problem on his hands, and of it was someone he didn't know, he... well, still had a problem. Especially if they were a fan. What if they expected a relationship and he didn't even really like them? He'd always heard of this sort of thing happening, but it had never happened to him before; he wasn't into parties, or one night stands, or any of that. But none of it mattered now. What was done was done, and he needed to know exactly what he'd done. Finally, Dan held his breath, craned his neck, and squinted.

The last thing he expected to see was a largish, muscular torso protruding from the sheets, ending in a skew of short, jet black hair that was entirely too familiar.


	2. Chapter 2

For a split second, his mind short-circuited. He tried to find any excuse, anything that would explain this. That's not Phil, Dan thought, only to have himself proven wrong moments later when Phil grumbled in his sleep and stretched a little. Phil was face-down in the pillow, the covers pulled up and twisted around his legs, exposing the pale skin of his back. It was unmistakably Phil. Dan's breath began to constrict.

Maybe we didn't do anything. Yeah. That seemed a little bit more likely, right? Dan knew Phil liked guys, but Dan had always stuck strictly to women; even drunk, he would have never done something like this. All the Phan shipping was ironic, for fuck's sake. Right?

But that, too, became doubtful when he remembered that he was stark naked, along with the soreness in his arse that would be very hard to explain away with something else. He looked around the room for other signs, spotting a bottle of lube resting on its side across the room, on the floor like it had been chucked there. He would have tried to convince himself it was something else, except, he'd seen it in Phil's room before. The moment of awkwardness when he'd caught sight of it during a collab video, Phil red faced as he hastily snatched it from the dresser and shoved it into his drawer, was not easily forgotten.

Dan squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was one more thing he could look for that would for sure tell him it was true. But he didn't want to check for it. Instead, he clutched the blankets close to his stomach, wanting to simultaneously keep investigating and also run from the room to never return.

Dan forced himself to feel around in the bedsheets, repeating a panicked mantra inside his head and praying it were true so he wouldn't have to face the man next to him if it were. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I'm not gay. Phil stirred, letting out the softest of noises just as Dan's fingers grazed over something that was crusted over in between the sheets. His eyes shot open; it was what he had been looking for.

"I'm gay," he whispered.

This could not be happening.

Dan tried not to overreact, tried to tell himself it was fine as Phil began to move a little more ardently on the bed, on the cusp of waking. It was mere seconds before his friend- friend?- would look up to see Dan next to him. And seconds before Phil would put two and two together and realized that they had crossed a dangerous boundary that would banish them from friendship territory forever.

Dan tried to remember, tried so hard to remember, but couldn't. There must have been something that made him decide that finally things just had to happen between them. There'd been a few awkward moments of what Dan assumed to be unresolved sexual tension, sure, and he'd put it all down to the fact that they hardly ever had girls over- boys or girls, in Phil's case- because of the detriment it would be to their privacy. They only ever had each other.

And if Dan thought about it on long nights, when he dragged up from below the memories of teenager Dan, maybe it made sense in a way. He'd been young, explorative, unsure of who he was, and he had for sure considered it when he'd reached out to a super cool, attractive guy on the internet. Phil had liked Dan for who he was, had accepted every part of him, and that had been a first for Dan. So of course he had considered it and of course when he was lonely or feeling strange he might consider it again. But nothing more. Until now.

It's fine, Dan told himself as he trained his eyes up at the ceiling.

But the truth, if he was real with himself, was that Dan didn't remember anything, so he hadn't technically agreed to any of this, and while he would never suspect his best friend of forcing him into anything... he needed to know how much of this Phil remembered.

Phil gave a disgruntled moan, lifting his head up from the pillow, and Dan felt a spike of excitement in his belly, followed immediately by heated shame in his cheeks. He just had gay sex. It was just a reaction to that, that's all. And nervousness. Yes, it was nervousness, actually.

Finally, Phil's eyes opened. He blinked, focusing on Dan. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Dan?" he grumbled, confused, voice gravelly with sleep.

Dan couldn't describe the mix of both relief and disappointment that Phil didn't immediately remember why his flatmate was in his bed. But that soon was wiped from Dan's mind as Phil sat up, the duvet slipping off him, exposing him completely for an instant before he realized his mistake. He quickly hiked the covers up over himself.

"Err, sorry-"

"JESUS FUCKING-"

Dan was cut off as he scrambled back wards and hit Phil's nightstand, knocking over the liquor bottle, which thankfully didn't shatter as it hit the ground. Phil was definitely awake now, and starting to come to his senses as he took in Dan's covered, but obviously nude, form.

"Dan," Phil started, more urgency in his tone, his eyes wide. "Um, Dan..."

Dan just sat stick still, heaving, still in shock. First, to wake up in Phil's bed, to find out what had happened, and Phil naked was too much-

"Phil," he began, too, but nothing else came out. They just stared at each other, wide eyed and disbelieving, Phil still obviously struggling with understanding the situation.

Dan was the first to try again. "Phil... I need to know how much you remember."

Phil blew out a breath Dan hadn't realized he was holding. "Well... what do you remember?" he asked worriedly.

"I don't remember a thing." Dan paused. "Actually, no. I remember feeling nice." His face flushed; he wasn't supposed to say that, even if it happened to be true. "I-I just remember the feeling, sort of. I remember... dancing? Was that with you? And then the rest is-" Dan made vague hand gestures. Phil didn't smile.

"Right. Yeah, the dancing was with me." Phil cleared his throat. "You drank a lot."

"Yeah. I noticed." Dan shuffled awkwardly back onto the bed so he wasn't sitting precariously on the edge anymore, choosing to lean on the headboard instead, but he was careful not to touch Phil. He caught sight of the bottle on the floor. "What is that?" he pointed.

"Vodka. I helped with that, that was when we got home, after the party was over. Well, sort of over. We left early."

Dan's chest tightened as visions of him dancing with Phil entered his mind, along with images of them as pictures on the internet, them being filmed and blown up on social media until everyone knew that Dan Howell and Phil Lester had been drunk and slept together, and God knows what he'd done at the party if it had led to this...

"If you're worried about what people saw at the party, don't." Phil shifted on the bed so he was sitting up more, too, and Dan tried not to think of how weird this situation was, that he was sitting naked next to his equally naked flatmate on his flatmate's bed that they fucked in the night before... "Your dancing is pretty bad. So's mine. But you were having fun, so I said we could go home."

Dan exhaled. So, nothing embarrassing in public, then. That was more of a relief than anything. "Were you drunk, by that point?"

"...No, I guess, not really. I'd had a couple things to drink."

So, then, the question was how far past that he remembered. And why Dan had gone along with it. When it became apparent that Phil was waiting for another question, unsure on how to go on, Dan asked, "So, we went home?"

"Yeah. I had to prop you up a bit, because you were falling into things." Phil's eyes examined various things around the room that weren't Dan's face as he continued. "Uhm... you were whispering things at me, sort of like... you know..."

Dan's face went blank. No, he didn't know. He'd been told he was a flirty drunk, but he didn't have any sort of idea what he could have possibly whispered into his best friend's ear when he was being carried up the stairs into their flat.

"...Like...?"

Phil gulped. "Can I not say them?"

"Phil." Dan sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to remain calm and sane despite the flighty feeling in his stomach that told him this was anything but okay. "I don't remember anything, I was smashed. You'll have to tell me."

"Can't you guess well enough? You're the one that said them!"

"Phil! It doesn't matter if it was bad, okay, I kind of expect it to be, and this isn't a fucking video. Just say it."

"I..." Phil's internal conflict of keeping his friend in the dark was raging behind his eyes, and if Dan had a choice, he would have rather never known. But he needed to know.

Phil took a shaky breath. "Fine."


	3. Chapter 3

Dan closed his eyes and waited for the words, the embarrassment, the horror- God, he didn't even know what.

And waited.

He cracked an eye open to find Phil staring at him, face a few shades paler than usual, his lips pressed tightly together in terror.

"Phil!"

"Okay! Okay." Phil took a deep breath, wincing as the words came tumbling out of his mouth all strung together as one sentence. "You said something about how handsome I was and about how you knew I liked guys and if you were turning me on and curiosity and about- uhm- f-fucking..." The curse word stuttered out of Phil's mouth, and cheeks were now no longer white, but flaming. He was still looking anywhere but at Dan, and Dan let his own gaze drop to study the window.

"Yeah?" Dan's voice broke as it went up an octave.

"Yeah. And um..." Phil gulped. "You said you wanted to t-try it out, with me, and we weren't going to get more chances like this to d-do it or else we'd be too nervous."

Dan exhaled. He'd also been known to try to drag people into stupid things when he was drunk, convinced that it was the best time to experience new things. So it didn't surprise him that he'd tried his very best to sway his flatmates opinion; it sounded very like him. But... sex? With his flatmate? Since when had he thought that was a good idea?

Since you decided it was rude to take people home now, his own voice said smugly, and he knew it was true; he just hadn't pondered it much besides when his mind wandered or when he was just about to fall asleep. The thought would come and pass instantaneously, only brought on because he hadn't gotten off with someone for... he didn't want to think about for how long.

"Well wait, hold on a second." Dan frowned, thinking. "Okay, so I said all this, and you just- what, agreed? Just like that?"

"No! No. I mean..." Phil dropped his head. "There's more to it."

Dan sat back to hear. If there wasn't a good reason for this, he was going to kill Phil. And his bloody beloved house plants, too.

"I- I knew you were drunk, and I wasn't as drunk, you know? So I sat you down. And you calmed down after a little bit, I thought, and you said sorry, and then you said you had vodka in your room and that we should have a sleepover like we always used to."

Ever devious Dan, ever too-trusting Phil. He knew where this was heading; inebriated Dan wanted the other person, whoever that happened to be, as without restriction as himself. Would he have pulled this on anyone besides Phil, though? Dan doubted it; Phil was the only one he trusted enough for something this serious, drunk or not. They were already close.

"So we went to my room and started playing games... I don't know... it gets sort of blurry after that."

Dan nodded. He knew Phil never had held his alcohol. Drunk Dan knew, too.

"And...?" Dan prompted. He knew that couldn't have been all, as Phil wasn't quite as surprised as Dan to find his flatmate in his bed, and Dan was determined to figure out how far Phil remembered.

Phil put his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, Dan. Please don't be angry with me."

Dan didn't promise one way or the other, though his resolve softened a fraction at Phil's pitiful tone.

Phil uncovered his face enough to keep relating last night's events, but his hands remained on his cheeks as though to keep his head from falling off.

"I'm not sure who started... well... we started... kissing," Phil admitted. The picture entered Dan's mind, and the same nice feeling from just before he woke up floated through his stomach again. He let it; the damage was already done, after all.

"And... I knew it wasn't right, even though it felt nice, so I said so, I remember that. And you were trying to be... to be s-sexy, I guess, so you reminded me you knew about the... lube... in my drawer..."

Dan could picture it, and maybe it was part memory, maybe not. Phil, red-lipped and flushed, stuttering and trying to back off, before Dan embarrassed himself... he wasn't sure why he ever entertained the idea that his older, sweet-dispositioned best friend would ever have tried to take advantage of him. It was, of course, Dan who wanted the thrill, and he should have known that.

Phil's fingers were inching up so he had to peek through them now. "And you were still trying to kiss me, and you... kissed my neck... and asked me to... uhm... f-fuck you."

Dan let the heavy silence settle in between them. He could imagine how hard it was for Phil, drunk and stumbling over the situation, to resist someone kissing him, someone offering themself so willingly, someone obviously eager for things to progress. Phil hadn't brought anyone home in ages, either, and if Dan was being honest, he'd suspected before that Phil had to've had a crush on him at some point. Drunk Dan had been very aware of all this. Drunk Dan had counted on it.

Dan took a glance around the room, at the empty vodka bottle, at the twisted sheets, at the various items askew in the room. He looked to Phil, hands over his face in shame. And horrible, gnawing guilt started to burn in Dan's stomach. He'd caused this. He couldn't remember it, but he'd caused it. All because of some stupid things he'd thought to himself that he'd never paid much attention to, brought to light by too much alcohol and a willingness to lose himself.

"Look, Phil..." Dan wanted to apologize, but more than anything, he wanted to fix it. He wanted to wipe the embarrassment away, remove any regrets and guilt and anything else Phil might have been feeling and tell him it was okay. He wanted to tell Phil it was all okay, he was okay, and that it wasn't his fault.

Phil's hands dropped to his lap. "I know you were drunk, Dan, and I know you don't remember, and I know you were just fucking around," Phil said in a monotone, not stuttering over the curse this time. Dan's words got stuck in his throat. "But it's my fault for saying yes, I was being stupid. I know you didn't want this and I... we can forget about it. It's fine."

There was such a forlorn finality in Phil's words that Dan couldn't help but feeling failed as a friend, like Phil was his puppy and he'd left him outside in the rain. Phil had liked him; Phil had been trying to resist because he was afraid this would happen, and now it had. Dan knew, too, that no number of "it's not your fault"s and "it's okay"s and "don't be sorry"s were ever going to fix that look on Phil's face, like his entire existence had come crashing down right in his very own room.

In that moment, Dan couldn't remember wanting more for his flatmate to be happy again.

He couldn't think of anything else to do; and they'd already crossed every barrier they'd possibly put up between themselves by now, right? Fuck it. He'd show Phil there was nothing to be ashamed of.

So he leaned in, tilting his head so he could reach Phil's lips.


	4. Chapter 4

(So he leaned in, tilting his head so he could reach Phil's lips).

He never found them.

Dan felt the bed shift and opened his eyes, not realizing that they had been fluttering shut as he inched closer to Phil. Phil was leaning away from him, his face turned away, with an expression of stone.

Dan hung there, once more fully aware that he was leaning over his best friend of six years and they were both more naked than they'd previously cared to see each other (though they seemed to have cared quite a bit last night). The awkwardness seeped in through his ears alongside a little voice in the back of his head. What the hell are you doing, Dan?

The gears in Dan's head ground to a screeching halt as he tried to come up with a reason that this wasn't working- why hadn't Phil let himself be kissed? Didn't he like Dan? Hadn't he been the one who had wanted this last night? And, more importantly, why on earth did kissing Phil seem like a good idea?

Then again, why had sleeping with him, either?

Dan's motor skills gave out, the connection between his mind and the rest of his body burning itself to a crisp, so that he could do nothing but hover frozen in this horrible position over his flatmate.

"I. Um-" Dan began, but his lips, which had been so ready to move around the lips of his best friend, seemed to have ceased proper function as well.

Phil started to scoot away from him, looking at the floor. "Dan, I'm not stupid."

Dan furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to reply, but was unsuccessful, coming up with no words that would have been appropriate to say back. Stupid?

"Dan..." Phil fiddled with the bed covers. "It's nice of you to care, but I'm fine. Really. I mean... I've done stuff like this before."

Dan couldn't figure out how to sit back; he was too focused on what he'd almost done, but what Phil had just said... "You- you have?" he stammered.

Phil chuckled a little. "Well, yeah. You know... sex? With a guy?"

"Oh... well, yeah, but..." Dan frowned. "Not like... with your best friend. That you... live with."

Phil seemed to finally find it in himself to look at Dan, and when he did, Dan could see his flatmate's ocean eyes were red rimmed and watery. "No." He blinked a few times. "Nope."

Dan's mouth felt like cotton. If he tried to speak now, he might say something that would ruin everything more than it was already ruined, or make Phil feel worse; alternately, and more likely, the words would trap themselves somewhere behind his adam's apple instead, quailing in fear, and he wouldn't end up saying anything at all. It was the latter that prevailed, and after seconds stretched too long in silence, Phil began to gather up the covers.

"Well... if you'd kindly look that way..." he gestured toward the other end of the room. "I'm going to get dressed. You probably should, too."

Dan's mouth flapped open and closed before he found something to say. "Right," he muttered. "Right. I'll just... ah... get my clothes over here, then."

"Yep."

There was an uncoordinated shuffling about the room as the boys busied themselves at opposite sides, trying not to look at each other as they searched around for their missing garments. Dan found his black shirt quickly on his side of the room, and he could hear what sounded like Phil pulling on his jeans on the other- but where were his own jeans? And his underwear?

Dan kneeled to glance under the bed, making sure his bottom half was concealed, then searched in the sheets, keeping his eyes down. He finally found a thin piece of cloth- underwear?

He brought them to his eyes and almost thought they were his, until he remembered he wasn't wearing his sonic boxers yesterday.

"Phil."

"Hmm?"

"Found your boxers." He allowed himself a look at Phil, since he knew he had his jeans on... wait, was he wearing his jeans without...?

"What?" Phil stiffened as he looked at them.

"I found..." Dan squinted at them. "Wait, are these my pair?"

Phil blinked. "Uh..."

Dan took a closer look at Phil. Poking out from the top of his jeans were none other than Dan's pair of plain grey boxers he'd been wearing last night.

"Phil... you've got my pants on," Dan stated uncertainly. He held up the sonic pair. "And you've got another pair of mine in... hang on..."

Phil put his hands up. "I can't ever tell which pair of sonics is yours-"

"But you're wearing my grey pair!" Dan spluttered.

"I..." Phil looked down at his waist, cheeks crimson. "I... have a grey pair too... sorry..."

Muttering something unintelligible, Dan took the sonic pair and crouched down to put them over his legs behind the bed. "Fine, just keep them, it's not like we don't already have each other's germs."

Dan didn't care to observe Phil's reaction as he made this little attempt at poor humor, mostly for fear that he would have to look back into a face full of either anger or tears. He didn't know which was worse.

It was a few more pained minutes before the two were fully dressed, Dan very aware that the stink of alcohol still lingered strongly over his clothes. He'd probably spilled a fair amount just as well as he drank it.

"Right," Dan said again, unsure of what else could fit in their conversation hiatus. "So, you can like, go take a shower first if you want."

Phil normally would have denied this and said something about how Dan could take the shower first, and then they would have bantered playfully about who took it first last time or who stunk more. But this time Phil just straightened the duvet a little before saying, "Sure," and walking out without a sound.

Dan took his time as he heard Phil turn the faucet on, making sure the lube was back in the drawer, swiping the vodka bottle so he could dispose of it, gently prying the dirty sheets off the bed for washing. Only after the last traces of the night's exploration were removed did he vacate to the living room to put on a pot of coffee. He plopped onto the couch with his laptop, ready to immerse himself in the world of the Internet rather than discern his feelings about their predicament.

When Phil emerged from the bathroom, he gestured as if to say, "It's all yours," and Dan stood from his spot and made his way to the bathroom to shower, too.

It was Saturday; Phil put on an anime, like usual, as they ate a rather late lunch, and things slid back into normal routine. The only notable difference was the absence of the usual domestic babble that accompanied their activities; instead, it was eerily silent besides the sounds of the television.

When dinnertime rolled around, Dan asked if they should order Chinese takeout, and Phil agreed without putting up any other suggestions. They ordered it. They ate it. Quietly. Dan felt like the food turned to dirt in his stomach.

Phil fell asleep on the couch around eleven during an episode of Attack on Titan, and Dan couldn't have been more grateful that he finally had some time alone to think. He couldn't begin to tell Phil he was sorry, because he knew it wouldn't fix shit, and he didn't know exactly what he was sorry about. Did he regret it? Well, not really, since he couldn't remember it, and he had no idea if he'd enjoyed it or not, though there was overwhelming evidence that he had.

His biggest internal conflict sprung from the fact that he was the one who had even initiated anything. Never in his wildest dreams had Dan thought (well, maybe in his wildest, but only because of the copious amounts of fanficiton he had come across from his subscribers) he would have gone after something like this, taken advantage of his best friend's feelings and inebriation. He knew, too, that the idea had to be in his subconscious at some point for him to be so willing to be a part of such an activity, and his question was, when did all this cross the line from ironic to serious?

Maybe this wasn't all just because he was sexually frustrated after abstaining, for the most part, for several years. Maybe this was because he actually had feelings that he hadn't come to terms with.

Dan put his head in his hands, watching the stars that formed as he pressed them into his eyes. A part of him wished he could just gouge his eyes out right here so he'd have something else to worry about besides the most important person in his life.

The most important person?

Phil really was the most important person in his life; Phil was the only important person in his life. Phil had been that person since Dan was eighteen. Not that he didn't care about his other friends, of course, but they were just... people. Not nearly the friend that Phil had been. Dan had admitted to himself before that he'd thought about fancying Phil then, when he was young and unused to the attention and the love a best friend could give. Had he just shoved that feeling down without realizing it? Because he'd figured these feelings weren't okay?

"Stop overanalyzing," Dan muttered to himself, knowing from the snores on the other side of the couch that Phil wasn't listening. "You don't have feelings." It was just confusing, that was all, and when he'd dragged Phil into this, he had been so drunk that anything sounded good. Reading into this could have far too many consequences.

He took his hands away from his eyes, his gaze resting on Phil's slouched, unconscious form. He remembered the picture Phil had taken of him sleeping when Dan was still a teenager- hadn't he captioned it something that referred to Dan as "kawaii"? Dan blushed thinking about it, as he had back then when he'd seen the picture. Phil had always thought he was cute, even when Dan had been a downright slag. Phil had seen every part of Dan, every awful secret, every glaring flaw and insecurity and shortcoming, and he'd never measured up to Phil.

And yet, Phil had still fallen for him, after all this time.

Dan found himself watching the way Phil's chest rose and fell shallowly as he slumbered, and he wondered again about feelings. Was he feeling feelings, now? Was that what that nice thing was that would creep into the pit of his stomach when he thought something happy about Phil? Could someone feel feelings for their best friend very suddenly after not letting themselves ponder it for six years? He was certainly mulling it over now, regardless of his past inhibitions, and the idea didn't seem so awful. Dan had been ready to kiss him, after all. You already did, Dan reminded himself, though he couldn't remember it.

The episode ended, and he didn't start another.

Dan sat in a silent torture, his brain throbbing and thoughts banging around in his head too violently to let him sleep, not waking Phil even when the first rays of dawn came shining through their windows. Only then did he finally let himself close his eyes, and he drifted off wondering how exactly Phil had tasted on his lips the night before.


	5. Chapter 5

Dan meant to sit down with Phil and have a proper talk about it all, to clear up any misunderstanding about whose fault it was. Dan wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to explain himself, maybe even say that he'd in fact had a crush on him when they first met. To make sure Phil didn't feel bad about anything, somehow, and talk about it like good flatmates would do. Like best friends would do.

He really meant to.

But every time he walked up to Phil over the next week, sucked in a breath, and prepared to give over a full testimony, he got lost; the words strangled him. What was he supposed to say? There were so many things, and so many of them could go wrong. Dan wasn't even sure how he felt about... well, everything, much less what to tell Phil he felt.

To make matters worse, Phil had decided to act like none of it ever happened, though Dan knew his flatmate had the uncomfortable memories of what had happened that night in detail, and Dan did not. He desperately wanted to ask Phil about it, to make him recount more of what happened, out of a sick need to know. But he didn't dare. Why would he put Phil in that situation, after the atrocities he'd already put his older friend through?

Phil didn't ignore Dan, like Dan almost expected to happen. The black-haired boy didn't demand they talk about it, he didn't ask if they should even be living together anymore; he just treated Dan as usual, maybe with a bit less pointing out people with animals on the street. They had breakfast together like always, though the jovial talk that usually accompanied this bonding time had worn thin; they watched shows together still, mostly silently, now. If they played a game together, they sat on the extreme opposites of the couch.

And when Dan would gather his resolve and get Phil's attention, to finally bring the dreaded words to life, the elder seemed to know what was happening. Before Dan could get a word out, Phil would ask if they should get pizza, if Dan had finished his next video, if he'd done the dishes, any number of things to distract from the upcoming conversation. And Dan would mumble unintelligibly, losing his nerve, and slink away.

It was a subtle, calm avoidance that was driving Dan slowly insane.

Phil shut himself in his room for his live show Sunday, and Dan didn't bother to listen in; by Tuesday, Dan didn't think he could sit through an hour of people asking him meaningless questions and endlessly inquiring if 'Phan' was real, so he made the excuse via Twitter that YouNow was broken, and sat in his room by himself instead, ignoring his social media in a rare effort to make himself think about something other than Phil.

Most things were... pretty much the same as they had been before. The only palpable change was in the large black spot that marked Friday night in both their minds, and Dan knew they wouldn't be forgetting it.

Tuesday passed.

So did Wednesday.

Thursday came around, and Dan spent a lot of the day working on a list of things to say to Phil, like he would have for a video. He ripped it up and threw it away toward nighttime, surfacing from his room to tell Phil he didn't particularly feel like dinner. Phil nodded from the anime he was watching on the couch, hardly looking at him. Dan fought the urge to stay out and talk to his best friend, shutting himself back into his room instead.

Thursday passed.

Dan was up until five Friday morning, not pacing, as he knew Phil was used to, but sitting at his desk, aimlessly watching the early morning traffic out his window.

Friday dawned, and Dan watched the sun rise. He hadn't so much as pulled his duvet back the entire night. He slipped quietly into the kitchen, knowing his flatmate wouldn't be up for an hour or so yet at least, and decided to prepare an early breakfast.

Today was the day. Today had to be the day he would say something.

Dan cooked too quickly, and he had finished enough pancakes for the both of them in a short half an hour. He couldn't keep himself from checking the hallway every few minutes, hoping that Phil would be up soon so he could end this horrible spiky feeling in his chest that stabbed at him every time he tried to picture telling Phil what he'd been thinking for a week.

Phil still wasn't up. Dan's stomach growled, and he remembered he hadn't eaten dinner last night. I can finish more than this, he thought to himself, and began to dump more pancake mix into the bowl, reaching for the fridge to get eggs while he did so.

When Phil finally stuck his face to the kitchen, it was to a sight of nearly two dozen pancakes, an empty egg carton, and a flour-covered, thoroughly disheveled Dan with drooping eyelids.

The older boy's eyes widened comically. "Wow. Hungry, were you?" he asked, chuckling, and it was so normal sounding that Dan couldn't help but feel something in his stomach relax. Phil padded past him, hair ruffled from sleep and Dan's eyes followed. "Jesus, that's a lot of pancakes, Dan. How early did you get up?"

Dan scraped at the last of the eggs, using a spatula to flop them from the pan onto the plate with the rest. "Oh... pretty early," he answered, not really wanting to discuss his sleeping habits.

"Right." Phil grabbed a plate from the shelf and served himself not nearly enough, compared to what Dan had cooked, and headed for the table. Dan turned the burners off, then did the same, though with significantly larger portions.

Phil raised his eyebrows as Dan teetered to the kitchen table with a heap of eggs and a stack of God knew how many pancakes.

"That's what you get for skipping dinner," he muttered, but when Dan looked up, there was light in Phil's eyes. The younger boy let a small laugh escape him before tucking in.

Silence. Dan remembered why he had taken the pains to make this breakfast, what he had planned to talk about over it. But now he was shoveling his mouth full of food and he was so tired and Phil was right there...

"So, we were going to PJ's tonight, did you remember that?"

Dan sucked in a pancake and egg mixture and choked briefly. "...Sorry. No I... didn't know we were going anywhere?"

Phil pursed his lips. "Well, yeah. PJ sent us an email on like... Monday. I said we'd go."

"Right... right." Dan hadn't checked his email. "And... why are we going to PJ's?"

"It's his birthday party. He invited a ton of people like last year, it looks like, and a lot of them are YouTubers, so we'd look like gits if we didn't show up."

Dan swallowed, throat still dry from having food down the wrong pipe. He remembered PJ's party last year a little too well, since he and Phil had been some of the only ones who stayed sober; they'd escorted a smashed and delirious Anthony out by supporting his weight over both their shoulders and nearly dragging him to a cab, and many of the rest of the guests had been the same way. Dan had let himself have a few drinks himself, but nothing too much.

"Right," Dan repeated. "I um... well, I'll stay away from the drinks this time, then." He winced. He hadn't meant to say it quite as it had come out, like he was afraid of putting themselves in the same dilemma as last weekend, though it was exactly what he was worried about.

"Okay," Phil agreed, betraying nothing of what he was thinking.

Dan wanted to bury himself in his pancakes; all the sudden, he wasn't hungry anymore.

"Dan?"

"Hmm?" Dan responded automatically, poking at his eggs with his fork.

"How late did you go to bed last night?"

"Oh, I..." he could have said anything, any time, but his brain was too water logged to even come up with that simple of a lie. "...Didn't. I didn't go to bed."

"You stayed up all night?"

"Yeah." Dan didn't look up at Phil's face, choosing to make a study of the patterns in his last pancake instead.

"Why?"

"I... couldn't sleep."

"...I'm sorry." He heard Phil continue picking at his food, having eaten only about half of what Dan had accomplished in the same amount of time. Dan couldn't take it anymore.

"I should probably go to bed, though, if I want to stay up for a party tonight, right?" He forced a chuckle.

"Yeah," Phil grunted noncommittally. Dan waited an infinitesimal amount of time before he shot out of his chair, discarding his leftovers in the fridge for later.

He lingered in the kitchen entry, glancing back at Phil. Phil had his head turned to watch him go, Dan realized with another uncomfortable, sharp feeling in his belly. "Goodnight," he muttered, and hurried off to his bedroom, finally breathing again when his door swung shut.

He crawled under the covers with his clothes from yesterday still on, falling asleep with no trouble this time, despite his apprehension about the upcoming party tonight.

It would be fine.

It would.

Nothing weird would happen, they wouldn't get drunk, and they'd come back home to deal with the silent tension again, Dan decided.

But when Dan woke again, it was to the setting sun outside his window, and to the last dregs of a dream where a certain black-haired boy's skin had definitely been in contact with his own.


	6. Chapter 6

Dan looked at the clock and realized, in a rush of dread, that he'd neglected to ask what time PJ's party was. And it was half six.

He shot out of bed, ripping his door open and shouting down the hall to Phil despite his dull headache from his unhealthy sleeping habits. "What kind of dress is it?"

Too late, he remembered he and Phil were on awkward speaking terms. But it didn't matter. He was late. He had slept in till half six. Fuck it.

"Formal! I'm wearing a tie," Phil called back from down the hall. Dan tried to shake the images that pricked at his consciousness from the dream, of smooth pale skin and soft lips and quiet murmurs in the darkness-

"Fuck." Dan dove into the bathroom, plugging in his straightener for a quick touch up before he went off in search of the black suit that was his most comfortable. He could only hope it wasn't wrinkly.

Thankfully, it wasn't, and Dan picked out one of his nicer, skinnier black neckties to adorn his neck, as well. It wasn't a stunning outfit, just a traditionally black and white, but Phil was sure to outclass him at clothing choice, as always. He very pointedly led his mind in other directions than the dream as it started to fade, focusing on his nerves about this party instead of that nice feeling that had invaded him again.

Once he'd donned his only plain white dress shirt, fixed his tie, and straightened his fringe to near perfection, he strode out to the living room to ask when the party was and if Phil was ready to go. But the sight of Phil stopped him before he had a chance to say anything.

Phil was lounging on the couch, his laptop open, a common sight in the Lester-Howell household. The only difference was that he was stunning in a suit as black as his hair, a crisp white shirt, and a skinny black tie to match Dan's.

Dan had seen him wear this suit before. In fact, they'd worn these together to a few different events. It wasn't anything new. But Dan hadn't ever taken the time to notice how good Phil looked in dress clothes. It was like Dan had missed an entire part of his life trying not to notice. But since last Saturday...

Phil looked up from his browsing and seemed equally entranced by Dan's appearance too, but recovered first. "We match," he pointed out, cracking a smile, and Dan knew he was trying to ease the weird tension that had momentarily paralyzed them.

Maybe he was used to recovering from the sight of Dan. Dan batted the thought away, and what Phil had just said sunk in.

Dan groaned. "Yeah... yeah we do. I mean, I can change-"

Phil rolled his eyes. "It's fine. I'm sure people will think it's cute or something."

Dan felt the heat rising to his cheeks and could do nothing to stop it. Desperately he tried to think of something to get them off this topic. What was happening?

"What time are we supposed to be there?"

Phil checked the time on his computer screen. "About half an hour ago. But PJ won't care if we're late, he's PJ. We're fine."

"You... Wow Phil," Dan said scathingly, "You didn't even wake me up?"

Phil didn't smile at this poor attempt at their normal playful arguments. "You looked really tired, Dan, and a bit out of sorts, really. I thought it would be nice to let you sleep."

Phil had done this before, of course, when Dan had obviously had a rough night, or when he could hear Dan pacing in his room in the wee hours. But Dan wasn't struck by it until now. Phil was so nice, and it wasn't always noticed now that they'd lived together for so long. It was a gesture of kindness, or true caring really, and if he didn't know better he would have said it was a gesture of lo-

Phil cleared his throat and clapped his laptop closed, tossing it aside to stand, a bit of color touching his cheeks. Dan snapped himself out of his thoughts only to find he'd been staring at Phil with wide eyes again. "We should probably get going, then."

Normally there would have been some crack about how Dan had slept through the end of the world or something, and Dan might've muttered "shut up", but it seemed like now the awkwardness, the wall they had forged between them since last Saturday, had built itself up again in those few questionable seconds. Dan cursed himself for being the cause.

He slipped his jacket over his shoulders, preparing to face the chilly December air. There would be no drinking for him, so no promise of the warmth and temporary comforts that it would bring. They were bound to be strangely quiet all night, not loose enough, not drinking, not joking much, not normal. Someone was bound to notice. Phil was probably going to go off and leave Dan alone for this reason, though he normally would be nice and stay with Dan, knowing his younger friend was socially anxious if there were too many people.

This was going to be worse than the last party.

Dan very much wished they didn't have to go. But this was PJ, their friend, and it was like Phil had said last weekend: if they wanted to help other people get out, they needed to be a good example themselves. And if there was reason Dan was going to go out, it was going to be his audience. The people who loved him.

He took a deep, steadying gulp of air.

"Let's go."

They took a cab over. There wouldn't be any space to park at PJ's, and everyone would have expected them to be drinking, anyway. It made sense to take a cab.

Dan couldn't help but feel like the subject was hanging between them as they sat together in the teeny backseat, crammed up against each other, because it meant they were free to drink if they wanted to. They both knew they wouldn't. But Dan was still having a hard time concentrating, searching for something to fill up the rest of the cab space.

Though he'd lived with it for several years and he assumed he ought to have been accustomed to it by now, Phil's scent was permeating the enclosed space, and it was the source of Dan's befuddlement.

"Did you put on cologne?" Dan asked, his voice coming out higher than usual. Stop, he told himself. Be normal, holy shit.

"Oh... no, I forgot, actually. I should have. Bugger."

So that was just Phil scent, then, that smelled so good. Wow. How had he never known? You didn't want to think about what this meant, Dan admitted to himself. In fact, he didn't want to think about it now, either, because it meant nothing, absolutely nothing, and he was just nervous and upset about their friendship for the last week. He couldn't want anything else, there was no way. Except for the fact that he'd been the one to start anything in the first place, so that obviously meant-

"Did you wear anything?" Phil inquired, out of politeness.

"Uh..." Dan looked out the window at the night sky, getting himself back together. You're under no obligation to think something you did when you were drunk meant anything. Stop freaking out. "No, I forgot, too, I was trying to hurry." His internal monologue wasn't helping him any. If anything, it was making him more at war with himself. It was what he had been trying to avoid all week.

"Oh. You smell nice," Phil mumbled. Dan ignored that his flatmate had said anything at all, instead gripping his own knees fiercely to keep himself from any thought besides the discomfort. The car ride stayed tense and silent until they arrived at PJ's a few minutes later.


	7. Chapter 7

Dan hoped there wouldn't be too many people, so that maybe he and Phil could make some polite small talk to a couple blokes, give a quick hello to PJ to let him know they'd stopped by, make the excuse that they were busy and tired with their hectic lives, and get on the road within the hour. But fate seemed to have left their side since last Friday.

When they arrived on the front step, a muffled, thumping beat could be heard inside (Dan was sure PJ's neighbors would love that), and the door swung open a minute later to... well.

It was packed.

PJ's London place wasn't huge; he just wasn't the sort of guy to have lots of people in his company at any time, usually preferring to have only a couple per visit. Last year's birthday party was the first time he'd had more than twenty people over, and even then, it still wasn't public. The flat was two stories, spacious by all means, but small enough to have kept their fun private and somewhat quiet.

That was clearly not the case this year.

At first, Dan couldn't see who ushered them inside and closed the door behind them. The front hallway was dark, and even that had people in it; the music volume increased the farther they stepped inside, reverberating in Dan's eardrums painfully.

It was only when PJ shouted, "Phil! Dan!" that Dan realized it was their host.

PJ was dressed in a simple grey button-down that may or may not have had a jacket at some point, but it was now hanging askew on his shoulders, one side of his collar popped up, and something may or may not have been spilled down the front (Dan had trouble telling if it was a spill or just a shadow. Who said it could be this dark in here?). Lights were flashing dimly from the distant living room area, and off to the left, an unidentifiable couple was snogging on the stairs.

Dan wanted to glance over at Phil and give him a surreptitious smile, a mutual communication of "wow, this isn't our scene", but after a rememberance of the tension in the car, he kept his eyes on PJ.

"Glad to see you made it!" PJ yelled above the music. He slapped Phil on the back a little too roughly, swinging forward into their faces with his next step. Drunk, already? Dan stuck his hand into his pocket and brought out his phone, leaning a little so he'd be hidden behind Phil as he checked the time. It was just past 8pm. How did a party get this wild this fast? Let alone a party at PJ's?

Dan had just slipped his phone back into his pocket when Phil produced an envelope from the inside of his jacket, handing it to PJ. "Happy Birthday! You can... open it later!" Phil had to lean and speak into PJ's ear, though Dan heard him well enough.

Dan tugged on his older friend's jacket as PJ began to rip the envelope open anyway. "What is that?" he hissed into Phil's ear.

"A birthday present. A... giftcard, nothing special."

PJ had evidently already seen the contents, for without warning, he brought Dan and Phil in for a squished, three-person hug. Dan closed his eyes and prayed for his life to end as he was pressed into Phil's chest. "Thank you so much. You guys didn't have to do that... I'm so glad to see you." At least, that was what Dan assumed he said. It was hard to tell over all the cheering that had just erupted in the living room.

Finally, he released them, and Dan and Phil sprung apart. PJ took no notice, instead gripping Phil's shoulder tightly. "Can I get you guys anything? Drinks? Food's in the kitchen..."

"No, no," Dan and Phil muttered together. PJ frowned.

"We can find our way around, I'm sure!" Phil beamed at him.

PJ grinned back. "Right you are, Phil!" And with that, he turned and made his way back to the living room.

Dan rounded on his flat mate the second their host was gone. "I didn't see any gift card!"

Phil's fake grin for PJ had disappeared. "Yeah, well, you were kind of preoccupied all week, so I took it on myself."

Dan tried to ignore the rising guilt in his chest. "That's not true, I was with you plenty of times and you could have told me! How much was it for?"

"A hundred and fifty pounds."

Dan didn't know what to say. That was... that was far too much for someone they didn't see very often. And there was a jealously he didn't understand that was making his chest constrict.

"We can't afford that."

"It was out of my own money."

Dan's mouth opened, closed. Why had Phil personally made sure to give PJ a nice birthday gift? Without telling Dan? He looked down from where he was positioned to yell an angry comment back into Phil's ear, and something about the closeness caught him, strange as it was in this situation. He was inches away from Phil's face, maybe less than that from Phil's ear, a little more than that from the slope of Phil's nose. That same scent that had engulfed their silence in the car was wrapping itself around him now, too, and it was warm.

His mind brought him back to the moment from last Saturday morning, in Phil's bed, closing his eyes, wanting to make things okay between them... wanting to make Phil happy. He was so close; his eyes ran wildly from Phil's black fringe, where Dan's nose was practically buried, to Phil's cheek, to Phil's chin, to Phil's lighter lashes, to Phil's lips. If Dan just leaned down, just a little bit... It would be so easy. So... nice. But there were people in here, and there was still that couple making out on the stairs not actually that far away from them, and they were still standing in the entryway of PJ Liguori's house...

Phil turned his face upward to say something and Dan automatically snapped to the side so Phil could talk in his ear.

"It's nothing. Really. Just some extra I had around," Phil explained. Though Dan highly doubted that anyone just had a hundred and fifty pounds extra "around", he nodded, swallowing, because he was still trying to pull himself together and Phil hadn't seen a thing.

I'm just confused, I shouldn't act on any impulses, really. I'm confused. But deep down, he knew what he was, really.

He was fucked.

Phil turned away to head into the living room, and Dan did as well, forcing his shaky feet into motion, reeling.

The living room was crowded, people dancing and stumbling everywhere. A game toward the kitchen served as explanation for why everyone was drunk at eight o'clock; Dan took one look and quickly surmised that the object of the game was to take shots. His stomach lurched as he smelled vodka.

Phil prodded him in the back and pointed behind the drinking game, where there was a sliding door that led to a deck outside. Dan nodded once and followed Phil, taking a lungful of non-alcoholic air as they stepped out. It was a bit chilly to stay out here, but they could remain long enough to see who was out here, at least.

To their delight, Chris and Anthony were among the group gathered on the deck. Though also already loud (they were listening to Anthony tell a story about American college parties, and a few of them were actually crying with mirth), the group was a welcome release from the pounding bass inside. There was a chorus of enthusiastic "hello"s and "how are you"s and slaps on the back as they greeted each other warmly and resituated themselves into the circle of men and women.

It wasn't half an hour before someone questioned their suspicious lack of alcohol.

"So... do you need some drinks?" Chris asked after a wild story involving a woman in a cat suit. Why? Dan thought to himself. Why today?

"Oh, no," Phil chuckled, patting Anthony's arm. "Not after what we had to take home last year!"

There was a roar of laughter as Anthony turned a bit red and nodded along.

"It's true," he mumbled, a smile creeping its way out of his lips.

"Hold on, though, I seem to remember something about Dan getting someone to drop the cake out the window during one of my parties!" Chris stepped into the circle as he said this, calling the attention to himself. There was an outbreak of laughter again, some remembering, some disbelieving.

It was Dan's turn to blush at the memory, and he knew more were coming as soon as Chris took another breath. Oh shit.

"Things take quite a turn when Dan gets sloshed! Truth or dare has turned out some of the best- he'll do anything. Once, we asked him to strip down to his pants and run out in the snow- remember that Dan?" The crowd couldn't contain themselves. "And, another time, we told him to go out and try to surprise snog the next girl who walked by- we said to ourselves, 'wait until you see the look on her face', when he walked up to her- but she kissed him back, actually! Dropped her bag and everythin'!"

This shouldn't have been nearly as funny as the group of tipsy listeners thought it was; in fact, Dan sort of wished he could have fled PJ's flat and ran back to his own, or at least covered Phil's ears so he didn't have to hear. Dan saw Phil edging out of the cirlce, unobserved. When he turned to look, Dan barely caught the flash of black hair disappearing inside. Shit. Had he upset Phil? Or did Phil just go off to find precious one hundred-fifty pound birthday boy? Dan shook his head of his weird, stupidly possessive thoughts and turned his attention back to the conversation. For all he knew, Phil had slipped off to the bathroom and would be right back.

Dan checked his phone a while later, cursing when he realized more than thirty minutes had run away in what he had only thought was ten. Maybe he should go find Phil? But Phil was a grown man; he didn't need Dan to do everything with him. So Dan promised himself another ten minutes before he'd make sure Phil hadn't gone home or anything. Then he got into a discussion with Chris and Anthony about the differences in British culture in different areas, and he lost track of time.

When he checked again, it had been around another forty-five minutes, and it was now almost ten. He was shivering, and the group had huddled up together for warmth. Dan excused himself and reluctantly opened the sliding door to enter the party again, letting his ears adjust to the loud music. He quickly passed the drinking game, which was still going strong, its participants chanting and cheering and in general being obnoxious. He searched in the rest of the living room, in the kitchen, in the entryway where they'd come in. The stairs were now empty, and judging by the muffled sound coming from above, he didn't want to check up there for Phil. He returned to the living room, searching again, scanning. Nope. No Phil.

Dan looked for a little while longer before dragging himself outside again, sending a text to Phil- Where are you?- before squeezing back into the group between Anthony and Chris, worry beginning to eat at his insides right alongside his mixed confusion and guilt. He'd have to wait.

Ten minutes and still no text later, Dan felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, relaxing because finally Phil was going to ask if he wanted to leave- but was surprised when he found himself staring into the face of PJ, and not his flatmate.

"Dan, can you come here for a second?" PJ looked serious. He was frowning deeply, and something seemed to have sobered him.

Dan stepped away from the group. "What's up?"

"It's Phil. He's in the bathroom."

Dan sucked in a breath. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought to check there. "What's wrong? Is he okay?"

"You need to take him home."


	8. Chapter 8

Wordlessly, Dan followed PJ back into his flat, casting a cursory glance at the drinking game, which seemed to have dispersed and morphed into dancing since he'd last stepped in. The lights were still flashing to the music, the bass was still too loud, and the place reeked. Phil was not among them, of course; Dan didn't know why he expected him to be.

Behind his worry, his speculations that Phil had gotten sick, or had food poisoning, or that he'd been beaten up by some rowdy guest, Dan's mind whirred with more questions than possibilities. What had Phil been doing since he'd left Dan outside? Had he gotten cold? Had he eaten too much, had he had a reaction to something, had he contracted a disease? Dan delved to darker scenarios. Had Phil had a heart attack? A seizure? Had someone hidden him in the bathroom after he passed out from who knew what?

But why had PJ been the one to come find Dan? As far as Dan knew, PJ had been out and about with the rest of his guests, but he certainly hadn't been outside... Dan hadn't seen their host for the entire party, actually. Dan's thoughts sank like a ship, spiraling into the abyss. Phil had been extra careful to provide PJ with a more-than-complimentary gift. What if Phil had made previous arrangements to spend the time with PJ? They could have been off somewhere together this whole time. Then, maybe something went wrong, and they had to go get Dan, pretend like nothing had been happening. Or, maybe this had been going on a while, which would explain the extra awkwardness, and Phil's refusal, when the internet duo had woken up next to each other last Saturday.

So what if they did something? Dan mentally slapped himself upside the head as PJ led them past the living room, into the front hall. It's none of your business, and you shouldn't care who Phil does stuff with, because you. Don't. Like each other. He would have been deeply offended anyway that his friend hadn't told him about this, if that was the case. But as it was, something other than second-hand hurt was going on here.

He wasn't jealous. No. That'd be ridiculous. He was merely still confused and out of sorts, that was all.

PJ climbed the stairs, and Dan secretly dreaded what he'd find as he climbed, too. What if it had been PJ and Phil making the noises he'd heard earlier, and not the couple from the stairs? But that option was blown out of the water when he reached the top, and PJ halted.

Dan froze, his hand hovering above the banister, when he heard it. He looked for the source, and found a closed door down the hall to their right, light filtering out from underneath it. No movement could be seen behind it. But a second later, Dan heard the noise again, and what he had originally taken to be sexual he now understood was a sign of despair.

Moaning.

He and PJ stood perfectly still, listening, as the moaning died down and became a short, hiccuping sob. Then Phil's voice wavered into an off-key, lilting version of the song that had been his and Dan's new favorite before the fiasco last Friday.

"She wants to dance like Uuuuuuu..." the tune trailed off, and Phil gathered another breath. "...ma Thuuuurman... Bury me-eee... till..." The words died into mumbling, before coalescing once more into a wordless wail; then more sniffing, and a hiccup.

It was pitiful.

And he was very obviously drunk.

Dan ascended the last stair and grabbed PJ's shoulder, whirling him around. "What happened?"

PJ cast his eyes down to his shoes as though it were rude of him to say. "I didn't see, exactly, my mum called to wish me a happy birthday and didn't shut it for an hour. Phil was playing some game by the kitchen... I was really surprised he wasn't with you. I found him when I came upstairs to use the loo. He's plastered."

"I can see that." Dan ignored the relief that flooded him at this explanation, which meant that PJ and Phil hadn't seen each other the whole night. Why the hell had Phil been drinking, after they'd specifically agreed on no alcohol? But... Dan thought back to when he had actually said those words. "I'll stay away from the drinks this time, then." Dan had been the only one to say it- Phil hadn't promised anything. And Phil wasn't the one in danger of getting them into a sticky situation, anyway.

And... now Dan had a flatmate to clean up. He sighed. He leaves Phil alone for just over an hour, and this is what happens.

"Listen... have things been going okay with you two lately?"

"What?" Dan spun around, just now becoming aware that he'd already taken a step toward the bathroom door. Why had PJ asked that? PJ couldn't know; PJ couldn't possibly. He couldn't. Was he asking because he knew? No. "Why?"

"Well, it's just that Phil sounds so upset. And he keeps on-"

Phil chose that moment to groan particularly loudly, cutting PJ off in midsentence. "Daaaaaaaaaan... Dan..." Dan's face flushed with heat as he heard his name.

"...Calling for you," PJ finished, looking apologetic. "Did something happen? I mean..." His voice dropped seriously. "I shouldn't butt in. But did you have a row?"

"Um..." Dan gazed into PJ's deep eyes, which would have been green and lovely if some lights had been on, and considered telling him. Spilling his guts, breaking, asking for advice, and probably unleashing the floodgate of muddled emotions and tears in the process. But PJ wasn't what he needed right now. And there was still that little nagging in his ear that kept asking, what if he and Phil have something going on? Even if they didn't do anything? "Something like that, yeah. Bit of a long story, really. We'll be fine though I... think."

"Well... just tell me if you need anything. You've been wonderful friends." PJ's eyes shined affection and caring, and Dan would have uttered some acknowledgement of his appreciation if Phil's voice hadn't risen in another cry.

"Gotta go... thanks Peej."

"You take care." PJ wasted no more time, but padded down the stairs again to leave them alone.

Dan watched the door for a moment before he gathered his wits and took the few strides to the bathroom, reaching his hand out to gently pry the door open.

What Dan found was a sight he wished immediately to unsee.

At first, it wasn't apparent where Phil was; Dan was used to his best friend being several feet above the ground, not on it. But his gaze fell downward, and he found his flatmate, curled in on himself tightly, somehow wedged between the toilet and the wall. Phil's tie was loosened, his shirt was askew, and his jacket had been flung in the sink at one point or another. His face was tear streaked, his nose an angry red, his eyes pink and swollen. The toilet was open, and the room stunk just as bad as downstairs. He jerked when he saw Dan, slamming his head into the wall and releasing another agonized groan, his eyes rolling in pain.

"Nooo... no..." He mumbled.

Dan stepped in, closing the door behind him in case anyone else were to wander this way. He didn't want anyone seeing Phil like this.

He closed his eyes after he peered closer and saw vomit in the toilet. "Hi, Phil. You should... probably flush the toilet."

Phil considered this, sighed, and raised an arm into the air, holding it for a moment before plopping it back down dejectedly. "I can't do it," he croaked. New tears spilled onto his cheeks. "I'm so... lousy. So lousy."

"No you're not," Dan muttered sternly. His own eyes pricked; Phil should never, ever had been pushed to this point. Something had to be horribly, outstandingly wrong. Dan reached over and flushed the toilet for him, breathing though his mouth. "See? All better."

This didn't seem to do much for Phil, who had picked a spot on PJ's tiled floor to stare at.

"Look at me." Phil didn't look. Water was still running down his face without restraint, but he was at least quiet, now.

"How much did you have to drink?"

Phil sniffled. "Nine."

Dan frowned. "Nine what? Shots?"

Phil wrinkled his nose and didn't answer; Dan couldn't tell if he could take Phil at his word or not in this state.

In any case, Phil could probably use some water, for both his stomach and to rinse out his mouth. Dan case a glance about the bathroom, then opened up the mirror cupboard, pleased to find some paper cups there. A quick search through some other cupboards provided him with a bit of mouthwash, as well.

Dan shoved Phil's jacket out of the way so he could use the sink to fill one cup, handing it to Phil. Phil drank the contents shakily, but without complaint, and Dan was pleased to see that Phil didn't seem to be sick any longer. He took the cup again when Phil was done, this time uncapping the mouthwash and pouring a tiny bit in. He gave it back to Phil again, who gave the blue liquid inside a questioning look.

"Swish it around a bit, and don't swallow." Phil took it and tipped the contents into his mouth, wincing. "Swish it... that's it..." Dan waited a bit before holding the cup back to Phil's lips. "Spit it out."

Phil tried, and most of it went in the cup, for which Dan was grateful. Only a little went dribbling down his chin. Dan grabbed some toilet paper to dab it up, and Phil let himself be handled, lifeless, eyes leaking all the while. The younger man stood, found the bin underneath the sink, and disposed of the cup before turning back to deal with his flatmate. Phil was still motionless, tears pouring.

Dan kneeled down so he was on Phil's level, like he was about to speak with a child. He reached out to Phil's face, brushing away salt water with the back of his hand. It was a reflex, something Phil probably would have done for him, but it felt alien to his hands. Phil was always the one comforting him when he was upset, calming him down in a crisis, talking him through it when he was angry. It should have never been the other way around.

"Phil." Phil still didn't look at him. Why wouldn't he look at him? "Do you want to go home?"

Phil sniffed again and nodded, gaze still trained on the floor, and Dan's insides ached as he realized that nothing he had done was making a dent in the flow of those tears. And there could be a reason for that, Dan realized.

He was probably the cause.

Knowing he couldn't fix it, knowing that tomorrow morning was going to be horrendous for Phil, knowing that as soon as they got home they'd be treading right back into the awkward wall that had become a part of their friendship now, Dan stood up, hooking his hands beneath Phil's armpits to pull him up too. With some heaving and struggling, he managed to support Phil over his back, instructing his flatmate to hold on as he extricated him from behind the toilet. Phil's fingers dug into the younger man's shoulders, attempting to steady himself.

"Ready?" Dan asked him. Phil nodded again, and they were off, limping at a sluggish pace out of the bathroom. Phil was letting Dan have most of his weight, and Dan couldn't help but wish that they had worked out a little more than just clicking the computer mouse. The same Phil fragrance that he'd been noticing lately was prevalent against him as they swayed together.

The pair stumbled down the hallway, and Dan just now remembered that he'd left Phil's jacket behind. He was just about to tell Phil he'd be right back, but about that moment, Phil reached out to place a steadying palm on Dan's chest, leaning his head onto his younger friend's shoulder.

"Dan..." he murmured, his breath ghosting over the skin beneath Dan's ear. Dan froze.

When Phil didn't follow up with anything, Dan stuttered out a response, off-guard. "Y-yeah?"

Dan didn't hear an answer. Instead, he felt the open, wet press of lips against the side of his neck.


	9. Chapter 9

Electricity shot through the entirety of Dan's body from his head to the tips of his fingers and toes as his neck was assaulted by Phil's mouth, every nerve ending aflame. Shocked and caught unawares, all Dan could do momentarily was stand, dumbfounded, his jaw slack. Involuntarily, he sagged a little into the hard pull of Phil's mouth, letting a high pitched noise escape his lips without his control before he knew what he was doing.

The sound snapped him back into awareness, and this was wrong, wrong, wrong-

"Phil..." He'd meant to say it sternly, but his friend's name came out hoarse.

"Mmm," Phil rumbled deep in his throat in response as he continued. Dan searched his wrecked brain for his next option for a few seconds, for too long, faltering when Phil began to suck below his jawline.

"Phil- Phil, no- I-" Dan's hand's began to scrabble dumbly against Phil's torso, weakly attempting to halt his friend's advances, not really finding the strength to throw him off. One of Phil's hands, the one that had been around Dan's shoulders, had traveled up to Dan's hair, while the other felt down his chest, lifting his shirt and sliding back up beneath it-

The pull on his neck suddenly became pain as Phil's teeth scraped skin (a pain that set his blood to boiling, but still sharp enough to shock him into action), and that was it. Dan gave an almighty heave and wrenched himself away from the embrace, while Phil spun into the banister, grabbing a hold of it before he could tumble down the stairs.

"I... I'm getting your jacket!" Dan spluttered, and he turned tail and fled down the hallway.

He rocketed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and backing up against the far wall to get still farther away from whatever the hell he had just experienced out there in the hall. He spotted Phil's jacket on the counter and snatched it up, then pressed himself to the wall again, trying to calm his ragged breathing. His neck tingled and stung where Phil's mouth had been, and he tried to ignore this feeling as his thoughts raced.

Okay. There wasn't a way Dan was going to turn a blind eye to this one. He was fully conscious this time, and the question he'd had about what Phil's lips felt like against his skin had been answered in far more detail than he'd ever hoped to have. But the real question here, and one he should have been answering before now, was whether he really had hoped for it- to have something happen, to experience this thing, whatever it was. To know some shard of what had spurred him to seduce Phil last Friday. He winced at the word seduce, but it was true. He had. He just... didn't remember.

And now, his heart was racing, his fingers were trembling, and he was all shaken up from his flatmate coming on to him. Why did he do that? Some combination of alcohol and pent up tension, he supposed. But it meant something that Phil couldn't communicate, or refused to communicate, when he was sober.

Phil still felt something for Dan.

It was very apparent now, and all suspicion Dan had about PJ had flown far away. All Dan had left to discern were his own feelings toward the situation, though he was pretty sure he knew what his body felt about it from the excitement coursing through his veins at this moment.

All the same, he didn't want to accept it. This was new to Dan; the first time he had ever kissed a guy was last weekend, and he didn't even remember the experience well enough to have something to draw from. He might have had sex, and he might have even initiated the sex, but he didn't recall a stitch of it. Other than some wayward dreams, he had nothing to prepare him for something like this. And it was his flatmate, hisbest friend. Worse, it was Phil. Jesus Christ. Phil had kissed him on the neck just now. He and Phil had slept together last weekend.

Everything was starting to hit him now, and he let it. The realizations he had been trying to avoid and deny washed over him, and with the tide, he grew less frenzied, more collected, calmer than he was before. Slowly, he pried himself off the wall, dropping the jacket to the counter again, in a daze. He faced his reflection. They had to deal with this, but it had happened. It had happened, and they might as well stop hiding from it. There was a certain ease in this acceptance, and he knew it was the first step to repairing things. Maybe.

Dan started to note his appearance as he gazed at himself. He was flushed, his hair mussed from where Phil had stuck his hands it it. As he turned this way and that, trying to pat it down to make it look presentable, he caught sight of something on his neck that hadn't been there before, just below his jaw underneath his ear. A little red mark.

"What is that? What is that?" Dan muttered to himself, stretching his head to the side to get a better look. Oh, no. That couldn't have been. It was. It was.

A hickey.

"Nope, nope, nopety, nope, nope," Dan muttered to himself, hitching up his collar to try and hide it, but to no avail. The mark was too high, and though it wasn't very visible now, he knew that by tomorrow it would be a darker bruise. "Fuck."

He examined it for a few more seconds before he noticed that it was very quiet out in the hall, and he'd left Phil very alone, and very drunk.

"Shit." Dan grabbed Phil's jacket from it's spot on the counter top, forgetting all about the mark for now, and launched himself out of the bathroom.

Phil, thankfully, had taken it upon himself to sit down on the first stair, and had not run off anywhere. However, the tears had reappeared, Dan saw as he came closer.

"Phil? I..." Dan swallowed as Phil turned his head to observe him, his usually bright blue eyes dull and bloodshot again. "I brought you your jacket."

He held a hand out to Phil and helped him up, hoping that maybe Phil was too drunk to consider or even remember what had just transpired. He helped Phil into the jacket, patting his older friend on the shoulder, trying to be consoling.

Phil swayed, but didn't say a word. He didn't let Dan help him this time, instead stumbling down the stairs by himself before Dan could even offer. The younger padded down after him, unsure of what to make of Phil's behavior. Phil didn't waste time opening the door and stalking out of PJ's flat drunkenly, Dan trailing behind, ready to catch his friend should he fall.

When they hailed a cab, Phil finally began to lean a little to far to one side, and Dan reached out to hold him steady as the taxi pulled over. He pulled Phil into the back after telling the cabby their address, feeling muddled, not understanding exactly what was wrong.

They were only a minute or so into the drive before Phil began to sob openly.

"Phil, what's wrong?" Dan asked gently, and Phil could barely get breath enough to speak.

"You... you don't..." Phil gasped and shuddered. "I'm so lousy," he said, just as he had earlier in the bathroom. "I'm so lousy. So lousy."

Dan sighed and pulled his flatmate the short distance required so that Phil reclined against his shoulder. He hoped the cabby didn't think too much of this.

"No, you're not lousy, Phil," Dan murmured against the crying. "Who told you that? What made you think that?"

It took Phil a while to reply, his chest heaving against Dan's side. "You... you didn't... for years, and now... then... you were drunk..." Crying. Dan squeezed his eyes shut. This was definitely his fault. "And then, I thought you wanted, so I... I tried, but you ran into the bathroom..."

"Shh. Shh." Dan put his arms around Phil, pulling him into his chest instead of on his shoulder. "Calm down. Come on. You know I care about you."

"No," Phil choked out. "You don't... not like..." He paused and seemed to censor himself, coming back to his original thought, though Dan knew what he was trying to say well enough. "I'm so lousy..."

"You're not lousy, stop it." Dan didn't know what else to say. This was pretty much a confession to the fact that Phil had wanted something to happen between them all along. He thought back to the whole last week, when Phil must have been so tortured trying to pretend for Dan, the inexperienced one, that nothing of consequence had happened. To years and years of dodging around each other, making fun of people who thought they'd be a good couple, acting like there was no interest and there never would be. And now...

But now wasn't the time. "We'll talk about this in the morning, okay. When you're all right again."

"I'm not alright," Phil whimpered into Dan's chest. "Lousy, 'm lousy. Lousy friend, lousy... lousy..." He was trailing off, and Dan knew it would be easy to subdue him in this state.

"Shh, no you're not. You're a tired friend. Go to sleep," Dan tried.

"Sleepy friend," Phil said deliriously, snuggling down deeper into Dan's warmth.

"Yep. Sleepy friend."

"Mmm hmm," Phil murmured. It was still quite a few minutes before he calmed down completely , but by the end of the car ride, his breaths had become shallower, the sobbing banished. He slept.

Dan welcomed the warmth of his flatmate against him, letting his fingers absently play with the black hair, still feeling it was wrong to have to see him like this, to have to comfort him this way. But this moment, this precious moment with him, was one he wasn't about to spoil.

Because he wasn't telling Phil about this in the morning. No, he wasn't.

He'd help him though his hangover, make him breakfast, ask if he wanted to watch another anime, try to be normal again.

And someday things would be normal, Dan decided. They'd be all back to how they were before. Tomorrow, this would all be a dream, and he would start to build up his relationship with his flatmate again.

But deep down he couldn't help wondering if pursuing something more wasn't worth the risk.


	10. Chapter 10

"Phil."

"Mm?"

"Phil. Wake up. We're home."

"Mmh..."

Dan prodded his flatmate in the sides, earning a sleepy giggle from Phil. Dan tried to control his smile as he shifted Phil's weight off of him. Considering what had just been going on, how on edge their friendship was right now, nothing should have been striking him as funny or cute.

"Come ooooon, Phil, get up."

"Nooo... sleepy friend..."

"Yeah, I know. You can sleep if you get out of the cab. Okay?"

"Mmh..."

With a bit of struggling and half-mumbled protests from Phil, they paid their fare and eventually heaved themselves out of the cab. Dan only hoped to God that the cabby hadn't recognized them.

Even though Dan had seen Phil get up and walk quite a ways by himself at PJ's, he still allowed his best friend to use him as a leaning post until they were up the stairs of their flat, somewhat amused at his sleepy, humorous state. Phil seemed to be making more work for him than necessary, not moving his feet enough, grabbing Dan awkwardly and almost falling backward several times, asking him to slow down. And Dan, though he usually would have been frustrated at his best friend's behavior, couldn't hold back his grin. He kept giggling along with Phil as they made their way up, feeling silly, reminding him of their first days as friends, when Dan had been a teenager. Young, soft, and not entirely as cynical. More fun. This feeling was why he had become friends with Phil; it was why he'd been inspired to meet him, work on videos with him, live with him, build a future together. It was fun. It was giddy. It was nice.

The ghost of a memory played around Dan's vision, of someone else supporting him up the stairs, of whispering slyly in that someone's ear and smirking when they were too blindsided to even stutter a reply...

Phil's extra exertion to get himself up the stairs made his breath come heavier, and Dan noted the foul smell that emanated from it despite the sweet fragrances Phil naturally carried. It snapped him out of his reverie and into more sinister contemplations, making him remember that he still had a situation to deal with when Phil was fully conscious again.

His mood became serious as they reached the last stair, panting. He took Phil by the hand, rethinking and immediately grabbing his arm instead, leading him down the hall. Phil could do no harm if he was fast asleep in his own bed, and Dan was going to make sure that happened. Though Dan was admittedly attempting to squash down the budding happiness in his brain before it could reach his heart, he heard his flatmate still giggling behind him as they entered Phil's bedroom.

He lifted Phil's arm to direct him toward the bed, and Phil twirled like he was dancing, like they were back in that Ed Sheeran clip for the Brits, before falling onto his back with a sigh. Dan couldn't help but smile at this, too, and he thought of tonight's moments. The instant when he had been considering closing the gap between their lips, the infinite minute when Phil's mouth had been on his neck. And he knew again what he had already known for a while, but hadn't thought much. He was fucked. It was a much different epiphany now than it had been originally.

Phil grabbed at Dan, and Dan let himself be dragged down to a sitting position on the bed, too, letting the feeling inside him bloom. It was the same feeling he let loose during their Phil Is Not On Fire videos. He couldn't wipe the stupid grin off his face, and he wondered why until he realized he was just happy Phil wasn't crying anymore. He wanted to share in Phil's mirth and happiness; he wanted desperately to be the cause of that happiness. But some part of finding Phil in PJ's bathroom was still alive in Dan, and though his flatmate had moved to the next phase of drunken mood swings, Dan still felt like Phil was crying inside him somewhere.

"Hey... Hey." Dan tried to bring the mood back down, reaching out for Phil's other flailing wrist and steadying it. Phil's laughter died, though his face remained all smiles. "I need to ask you something. This is serious, Phil."

Phil, still breathing heavily from his trek up the stairs and from laughing, finally nodded, the smile beginning to slip from his features. Dan instantly wanted it back.

"Look... was I the reason you were crying?"

All traces of hilarity vanished from Phil's face. His eyes were off of Dan in a half a second, roaming around the room so he didn't have to look at him. "No."

"Are you sure? You're not just trying to cover it up?" Phil didn't answer immediately, and Dan knew it meant a yes. "Come on, you can tell me."

Phil swallowed. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. Even though Dan had already known it was true, heat pricked at the corners of his eyes at the confirmation.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Phil cast a glance about the room, eying everything in it. This was the last place they had been when one of them was drunk, Dan remembered. He wondered if Phil was thinking the same thing, mulling over the differences in predicament, or if he was just too torn up to say anything.

"I..." Phil croaked, swallowing again. "I was so 'pset when you didn't remember."

Dan gulped. Only one sentence in, and this was harder than he thought.

"And then... I thought maybe... but Chris was talking about you drunk..."

Phil's voice was starting to break, and Dan didn't want to push him any farther. Of course it had been then, when Phil slipped away. Dan had suspected it upset him; just not this much. And then Phil had gotten outrageously drunk to cope with not only Chris' wayward comments, but the entire week of walking on eggshells. But Dan was curious about one more thing.

"Phil?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you give PJ a hundred and fifty pounds?"

"What?" Phil's brow creased in confusion. "Who gave him? No."

"Well then- wait, what did you give him?"

"A giftcard."

Dan's head spun.

"How much was on it?"

"Twenty." Phil's eyelids fluttered sleepily as everything clicked into place; he hadn't given PJ a boatload of money. He'd just... lied about it. "A 'undred fifty. Pff." He snorted.

"But then why'd you..." Had Phil been trying to make him jealous? Trying to make it seem like he didn't care? Dan didn't know. But he shouldn't ask his flatmate right now; Phil was definitely on the cusp of falling asleep. His face was back to a peaceful expression, his black hair almost artfully tousled, and Dan gazed at the features while he would still allow himself to, letting the feelings run wild through him. Yes, he admitted to himself.There's something there. An idea struck him, and maybe it was because he'd slept in so long and his head wasn't screwed on straight, but suddenly he couldn't make it leave. He wouldn't know unless he tried it.

"Phil, you're not asleep yet, are you?"

Phil shifted a little and squinted an eye open. "Nuh-uh."

"Well can I... you won't remember this in the morning, you know, so can I... can I..."

Dan felt himself inching forward, cautiously, knowing he was going to chicken out if he didn't do it now, and right now. His heart thrummed, his pulse pounding in his ears, his whole body shaking as he leaned over, close to Phil's face. He let Phil have a moment to back out before he let Phil's scent overtake him, and he gently fell forward to connect his lips to his flatmate's.

It was not electric like the kiss on his neck on the second floor of PJ's flat had been. This time it was warm, and baby soft, and it was every comfort Dan could have wanted. His top lip wedged between Phil's lips, and Phil's mouth opened a tiny bit to allow it. In that moment, Dan was a teenager again; he was young and experiencing life, and he felt loved. They were young and just meeting all over again, only this time, they were letting each other know it. And Phil was kissing him back, ever so slightly, letting him know it was okay.

After a moment or so, not too long in case either of them got carried away, Dan rolled himself back upward again to break their lips' union, reluctantly. Phil's eyes were closed; he didn't open them again as Dan lifted himself off the bed. He must have finally fallen asleep, Dan surmised.

No... he was certainly not telling Phil about this in the morning.

Dan made his way to his own room after pulling the duvet around his friend's shoulders, and changed into comfier clothing in a daze, mindlessly grabbing his laptop and charger and plopping himself down in the living room to prepare for hours of scrolling.

Because he'd slept in today, and it was going to be a long night.


	11. Chapter 11

A long night, indeed.

It seemed like every time Dan looked at the little digital display at the top of his Macbook screen, less time had passed than before. When was it going to be past midnight? He made a game of seeing how long he could go without looking at the time, hoping more minutes had passed when he broke. When midnight finally rolled around, it didn't feel any later; it was still at least another six or seven hours until the sun came up, and another six or seven hours of this was torture. His head thudded dully in response to his ruined sleep schedule, but right now, he didn't particularly care how he'd fix it.

Dan hadn't done anything on his computer for the last hour. He'd opened it, he'd clicked his browser. And he'd been staring at the Google homepage ever since.

He'd kissed Phil.

Not that this should have been any sort of news. He'd also had sex with Phil. Phil, who was also a guy. Phil, who was also his flatmate. Phil, who was also his best friend, and very publicly so. The facts were ricocheting around his skull in rapid fire, scrambling themselves. What did it all mean?

If he told Phil this in the morning... well, he couldn't. He couldn't ever disclose tonight's events to Phil. Phil was too sweet, Phil had been too good to Dan since they'd been together... _living together_ , Dan corrected himself in his head. But they practically _were_ together. No wonder they'd gotten the wrong idea about each other at one time or another, respectively. But Phil couldn't go through any more trauma... he'd been unfairly tugged around by Dan enough already.

Dan knew he himself liked to do things on a whim. He knew he liked to experiment. That was why if this whole thing ended up being an experience that he lost interest in, or, God forbid, if he should ever lose interest in Phil after revealing that they'd been kissing again, Phil would crumble. Dan knew that if he himself were in this situation, he'd feel played, because they'd been acting like they weren't really interested in each other. All this week, they'd been nothing but platonic, and it wasn't fair to either of them that their desires came out only with excess of drink.

In a way, Dan wished it were as simple as what his heart were telling him. Did he love Phil? Hell yeah. He never wanted their paths to detangle themselves from one another: to stay entwined for the rest of their lives, never even married to anyone, always best friends, would have been enough for him to stay happy. But this... this was all different, and new, and it made his fingers quake and his heart jump to his throat just thinking about it. What was this? What was he supposed to do with this feeling?

Dan dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, wishing it were later or that he were asleep. It was stupid that things could change this quickly. Now that he looked at it from this angle, they seemed like they'd been stepping around the issue for years. Maybe they really were meant for each oth-

 _No, no, no,_ he told himself sternly. Thinking like that was dangerous. They were great together, sure... As friends. That much was true. But the label of a "relationship" complicated things, and really, a friendship which was public to the world was complicated enough. If people found out about this, the internet duo would get more hate, their ratings could go down, and all people would want to hear about would be _phan, phan, phan_. They wouldn't want to know about the Amazing Book Is Not On Fire, they wouldn't want to know about the tour, their videos and radio shows and livestreams would be analyzed for romantic notes even more than before. They'd be followed around more than they were now, their space would be invaded. They might have to find another place to live. Or they might have to talk to fans about how they got together, and Dan wasn't about to have any of that. He doubted Phil wanted to talk about it, either. Phil'd had enough embarrassment already.

Dan shifted around, pulling the blanket he'd brought from his room tighter around himself. If they ever got together, it would be under a horrible premise, and no doubt, the relationship would be doomed to failure. He'd very seldom heard of things like this working out before, where the couple had gotten drunk, had sex, didn't remember, and actually had a good relationship after. Trying to build a normal friendship back up with Phil was straining them enough without all the excess drama and hurt and confusion.

Plus, Phil might take an invitation for a relationship as a sort of insult right now. Who was Dan to act like they could never be together, like the sex had been absolutely meaningless, to ruin Phil's life and dreams and feelings and then make Phil doubt himself by revealing he had feelings? Dan hadn't come to terms with the feelings yet, even. _Hey, Phil, I might have feelings for you maybe, but I don't actually know why and I'm hardcore doubting myself about it because I didn't want to admit it_. What was Phil supposed to say? 'Cool Dan, let me know when you sort it out so we can just not be together anyway because I don't trust you? Also thanks for saying you didn't want to be with me all these years.'

Suuuuuuuure. That would go over well.

And what if he proposed the notion of a relationship, and Phil rejected it- then what? They'd go about pretending like nothing happened, while knowing that they both had feelings for each other?

Dan buried his head in the blankets and let out a pitiful moan. He really, really didn't want to think about this now. But it was only fifteen minutes past midnight, and damn, he needed to distract himself. This could _not_ go on all night or he'd go insane.

Dan searched through Netflix, steering clear of American Horror Story after a glance at how dark it was outside, and chose to start a new anime he'd been meaning to watch anyway. That would take up a lot of time, and if the storyline was gripping enough, he could relax a little.

Dan fell asleep around four thirty in the morning, fatigued from his mental exercises and certain that he could sleep in tomorrow. With the hangover Phil was going to wake up with, it was certain that neither of the boys would arise until the afternoon hours.

As it were, Dan jolted awake from a dream about an anguished Phil taking a cab out of the city to never return, and was displeased to see the time was only a little before eleven. Which meant more time he had to think about Phil, more time until he could see his flatmate again and cover this all up and say nothing happened. Dan dragged himself out of bed, choosing to stay in his joggers and jumper rather than get dressed, and ambled about aimlessly, unsure whether he should start making breakfast and coffee or get his shit out of the living room first. He settled for coffee, checking his notifications on his phone while the kettle brewed.

Dan's made a half-hearted tweet thanking PJ for a fun party before remembering that Phil was usually very surly if allowed to sleep in past noon... perhaps he should wake him now, before it got too late in the day? Or would Phil be happier to sleep through his headache? He kept thinking as the brew finished and he poured himself some coffee, settling back onto the couch with it. He was still debating when he heard a creak, and glanced down the hall.

His flatmate was standing there hesitantly, one of his hands pressed to his forehead against his black fringe, his eyes screwed up against the brightness of the living room (which wasn't very bright, if Dan was being honest). Phil had put on some sweatpants, as well, but he didn't seem to've had the motivation to remove the dress shirt Dan had left him in.

Dan stared at it, the adorable mess that was his best friend. Phil had always been an adorable mess. And he'd kissed those lips last night, and... Phil had no idea any of that had happened. Guilt settled like a sediment into the ocean of Dan's thoughts.

"Want some breakfast?" he chirped, a little too cheerily, a little too quickly.

"I got really drunk," Phil said thickly, his voice coming out strangely, like his nose was stuffed. His eyes looked swollen still, most likely from crying so much last night, and they were probably more bloodshot than Dan's.

"Yeah, you did." Dan looked down at his mug. It didn't provide him with anything more meaningful to say.

"What happened?"

Dan was surprised he didn't hear more fear in the question; perhaps Phil had already discerned that they were okay if he'd woken up in his own bed fully clothed. Dan jumped up, heading for the kitchen while he spoke. "You drank too much, PJ found you and told me to take you home, we took a cab back, you went to bed. Want some coffee?" Dan winced at his speedy, less-than-satisfactory explanation. He hadn't meant to sound so cut and dry about it. He just hoped Phil took him at his word enough to hold any further questioning.

"I... yeah, sure, that'd be nice." Dan rooted out a mug for Phil, beginning to make it up the way he knew Phil liked.

Phil suddenly seemed very interested in Dan and watched him as he worked, edging into the kitchen, obviously staring. Dan, flustered and unsure why his flatmate was studying him so, fought to actively ignore this fact, instead waiting for Phil to find something else to look at while he coffee was being finished. His gaze was making Dan's fingers shaky.

Finally, Dan turned to surrender the coffee, looking Phil straight in his blue eyes. He almost dropped the mug as he handed it over.

Phil was squinting past Dan's face, though, not into it. A little lower, in fact. Sort of toward his jaw. What was he looking at so strangely?

"Phil?" Dan turned to glance behind him. "What are you looking at?"

Phil took a moment to answer. "Did... did something happen last night?"

"What?" Dan suddenly felt very self conscious. How would Phil have known? Did he remember anything? Oh God. What if Phil remembered the kiss Dan had given him? He started to feel sick. He hadn't even thought once of what he would do if Phil remembered. "What do you mean?"

Phil frowned. "What's on your neck?"

"What?" _What's on my-_

Dan's hand flew up to touch the mark on his neck, the memory of finding his hickey in the mirror last night coming back to him too late.

 _Oh, shit._


	12. Chapter 12

Dan could feel his lip trembling in an effort to form something, anything, to say. But he was caught between making up something about his hair straightener, blaming the hickey on someone else (there was literally no one in Dan's book that would have been believable, anyway), and denying the knowledge of its existence. But he already had his hand up to his neck; that cut out not knowing about it. He couldn't make up a person fast enough. And an excuse that it was a burn or rash... from what? Foolishly, he hadn't given a thought to what sort of explanation he'd have for anyone who saw it. And... now he'd been giving Phil the look a lion's prey gives when it is caught unawares, just about to be devoured, and his just-too-long silence had already given the answer away.

But Phil, through some miracle of being the nice person he was, still had the grace to make sure. "Is that what I think it is?"

Dan was half tempted to play dumb and ask what exactly Phil thought it was. But he knew better. He just nodded mutely, watching his flatmate's face, which was unreadable.

The coffee he'd been drinking was already rising in his stomach. Phil was going to know. Phil's going to know and he's going to know I didn't tell him-

"Did I...?" Phil didn't finish the question, and because he didn't need to. They both knew what they were talking about. They both knew Dan knew what they were talking about. Dan nodded again and wished he could close his eyes to shut himself off from the reality that his entire cover had just been blown. And now Phil was going to start yelling at him, and then they'd stop being friends, and he'd lose Phil forever.

But instead, he watched Phil loosen his jaw a little and say, in a very tight, controlled voice, "What happened last night?"

Dan exhaled and scratched the back of his neck to save himself a little bit of time. Phil knew he hadn't told the whole story now. And there wasn't anything that could stop him from finding it out. But he wasn't yelling... Might as well say it how it was.

"You joined that game that was going on by the kitchen, right?" Dan started uncertainly. Phil gave an affirmative grunt. "...Right," Dan muttered, trying to imagine his sweet, docile friend downing shots. "You were gone for a really long time, and PJ told me he'd found you in the bathroom and I needed to take you home."

"In the bathroom?" Phil's brow creased. Did I throw up?"

Thank God, he doesn't remember. Maybe he didn't have to tell Phil everything. "Um... yeah, you did. When I came in, you were um... drunk..." Dan faltered, unsure whether it was an intrusion upon Phil's dignity to let him know how bad the scene had been. "You weren't having fun, so I said we could go home. I helped you downstairs and..." Dan swallowed. "We took a cab home, and I put you to bed." Phil looked up sharply. "By yourself," Dan added with force.

"Alright..." Phil leaned back to steady himself against the fridge; Dan hadn't noticed how close he was. "I still don't understand. So when did thishappen?" He gestured to the mark below Dan's jawline. Dan bit his lip; Phil's voice had an edge to it now.

"Um, well. That was on the stairs." Dan fiddled with the edge of the countertop, trying to figure out what exactly to say. Phil's eyebrows shot up into his fringe.

"Were you drunk?"

Dan wanted desperately to hide somewhere, preferably a hole in the ground where no one would find him for at least the next hundred years. "No."

Phil didn't say anything. Dan's eyes dropped downward, fixing on his own fingers and their relentless picking at the counter.

"Dan... we can't keep doing this." Dan's fingers paused. Phil swallowed hard. "I'm your best friend. I'm your flatmate. I'm not... I'm not... someone for you to play around with."

"What?" Dan looked up, startled. Dan, playing around with Phil? Phil was the one who kissed him! "I didn't ask for you to come onto me-"

"Well it certainly looks like you enjoyed it," Phil said acidly, and Dan's throat and eyes stung, because he knew there was something to what Phil was saying, but he didn't want to admit it. A hickey didn't just appear of its own accord. It would have taken some time to form, and that meant time in which Dan didn't seem to mind his flatmate kissing him. And he was guilty.

"Phil, it wasn't like that!"

"What was it like, then?" Phil sounded close to tears, and all the sudden his eyes were glassy. No, no, no, this couldn't happen, not again. "Because if it wasn't 'like that', what was it? Nothing? Is that what everything I do is to you? Nothing? Is that everything you do means? Because it's been more than once, now." Phil stepped away from the fridge, turning his back, probably so Dan wouldn't see the tears.

"No, Phil- Phil, listen! You were upset, alright, you were crying, and I was just trying to help you down the stairs, okay, I didn't know what to do..." He set his hand on Phil's shoulder, and Phil shrugged it off.

"You didn't know what to do, so it was all fine? Because everything is meaningless to you?"

Dan attempted to walk around to face his friend, but Phil just turned away again. Dan gave a frustrated sigh. "Stop it, Phil, that's not true and you know it. I threw you off and we went home and you didn't even try anything else, okay? Nothing even happened!" Dan was near shouting now, and he willed himself to calm down for the sake of his flatmate's well-being. Phil sniffled.

"So it really didn't mean anything to you," Phil said quietly, his voice dead.

"What?"

"Nothing... none of it meant anything. You're just going to keep pretending like nothing ever happened." Phil squared his shoulders and finally looked up, and Dan saw that there were, indeed, tears rolling down his cheeks. There had been far too many of those lately. How many had been ones Dan hadn't seen? "You were just going to pretend like everything was fine. You weren't going to tell me at all."

Dan didn't reply, but his omission was answer enough. Phil nodded to himself.

"And to think, I thought..." he shook his head. "I think I need to go get some fresh air."

Dan couldn't say anything. He couldn't think of anything to do while he followed his flatmate to the front room, watching as Phil gathered his silvery space coat from the closet and pulled it on. Everything Dan said made it worse; everything he withheld, Phil had found out, and it had all added up to ruin Phil that much more than before. Except there was one thing Phil didn't know, and if Dan didn't say it now, he'd never say it.

"I kissed you," Dan whispered, and he was almost afraid Phil wouldn't hear it over the rustling, but Phil paused.

"You what?"

"I... kissed you." Immediately Dan regretted saying anything as emotions flashed behind Phil's eyes, none of them looking particularly happy. "I made sure you were cleaned up at PJ's, and I tried everything to stop you crying, and I put you to bed. And I... kissed you goodnight." Phil was listening, but his eyes weren't on Dan. They were far away, locked on something Dan couldn't see. "It's not what you think at all, Phil. It's like..." He wanted to say something meaningful. Something to show Phil that he was sincere in everything he'd done so far. Because the man standing there at the top of their stairs, the man who was about to walk away, was the most important person in his life, more than anyone could ever know. But the feelings were all muddled, mixing and mashing with confusion and fear, and all he could get out was, "...I don't know. But it's like something."

Dan held his breath. Phil stared at him for a few seconds with wide eyes, then he smiled. Sadly.

"Dan... I don't think you even know what you mean... you're confused." Phil turned and started to thump down the stairs. "I'll be back," he called, and before Dan knew what was happening, Phil was out the door and into the outside world.

Dan stood numbly. What had Phil just said? Why... why didn't Phil believe him?

Dan knew why. He had acted poorly to Phil because, like Phil had every right to say, Dan was confused. And he hadn't gotten up the nerve to say one goddamn sure thing about how he felt, and now the man he loved was gone. And when Phil came back, it would be over. Things would never be the same again.

The man he loved. He knew that; yes, that was that something. It was that nice feeling, it was the something, it was the reason why he was so fucked up about this. Love. Because he loved Phil. But he hadn't admitted it to himself until it was too late.

Maybe... maybe he could fix things. Maybe. And maybe not. Right now... right now he needed someone to know what he was feeling, and he couldn't wait however long for Phil to get back and only end up botching their friendship all over again.

He needed to tell someone. And someone had just offered a listening ear last night.

Dan took his phone from his pocket, almost disappointed that he didn't have any texts or calls from Phil, and found the contact he wanted, pressing the little green dial button and waiting for it ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey PJ. Are you busy right now?"

Dan heard some shuffling in the background. "Nah... just cleaning up a bit."

"I'm coming over."


	13. Chapter 13

Dan didn't realize it was too cold outside to leave in just his joggers and a t-shirt, nor did he think about the unfathomable amount of time it was going to take to walk to PJ's, until the winter air began to bit at his hands and face insistently. He'd been walking blindly, trudging forward in a murky haze that consumed his thoughts until he could no longer function correctly. Only now did he pause, wondering why on earth he hadn't brought a jacket, where he thought he was going without a cab, and how he hadn't noticed the wind shooting through his skin and settling in his bones. He hadn't even felt that his teeth had been chattering for a few minutes; how long had he even been out here? Where was he, even? All he knew was Phil, Phil, Phil. He had to make it right. He had to.

Perhaps he had been wanting to run into Phil on the road, even if it hadn't been his conscious goal.

But right now, he was being an idiot, and he couldn't keep going on foot. Dan shook himself, feeling like his head was submerged underwater, and hailed a cab, knowing it was what he should do. He just couldn't concentrate. He focused on the simple command, go to PJ's, in his head, repeating it over and over to erase the rat race inside his head.

He didn't focus on how it could be the end of the only relationship he couldn't live without. The end of his career. The end of his internet life. The end of the Dan Howell he had shaped himself to be for the past six years. What was he without Phil? It was perhaps that thought that scared him the most, and he flinched away from it as he watched his fingers pull the handle of the cab's back door and slipped his body inside.

Dan recited the address to the cabby, hearing his voice form flatly over the words as if from another mouth. The cabby was saying something, but the words were foreign, they were unfamiliar, they weren't who Dan was looking for.

And now the cabby was looking at him expectantly, and they hadn't moved.

"Sorry?" Dan asked, clearing his throat to try and come back to himself.

"Are you trying to catch your death, wandering about without a coat? Aren't you cold?"

"Um..." Dan shifted to gaze out the window. The heat inside the cab wasn't doing much to warm him, but he felt oddly numb, and that was fine. "I forgot one, I'll get one at my friend's... Thanks."

The cabby muttered something under his breath and turned back around to shift gears. Dan didn't catch what it was, but his attention waned and he was lost in the sky as they began to move. In the blink of an eye, the cabby was pulling over again. So soon?

Dan jerked himself from his position with his temple resting on the cab's window, feeling a stiffness in his neck that shouldn't have been there yet. "Why are we stopping?"

The cabby glanced back at him with concern. "This is the place you wanted?"

Dan gazed around, spotting the familiar arch of PJ's flat across the street. "Oh... yeah. Yeah, thanks."

He paid the cabby with shaking fingers and exited the cab, not entirely unconcerned that he'd missed most of the drive. He was raising his fist to knock on PJ's door before he knew it, his memories flashing back to when Phil stood next to him on the front step, scent swirling through Dan's senses. The air was painfully void of that now.

Dan heard footsteps before PJ unlatched the lock and opened the door wide. The smile PJ had obviously prepared for Dan's arrival fell off his face as he took in his friend's appearance. Dan knew what he must look like: fringe stuck to his head, a bit curly since he hadn't bothered to ready himself before vacating his own flat; cheeks red and rose raw from chill; shoulders quivering, shivering in his stay-at-home-all-day attire.

"What happened?" PJ asked immediately, concern coloring his green eyes.

"We had sex," Dan blurted.

Shit. He probably could have started a little slower. PJ's eyes widened substantially and he stepped aside to let Dan in without a word. Dan brushed past him, the warmth inside hitting him unpleasantly and making his frozen fingers and face burn.

"Uh... So..." PJ latched the door behind them and scurried past Dan into the front room, and Dan had the distinct feeling PJ was trying to find something to occupy himself. "How did... how did that happen? Do you- do you want to talk? Do you want some tea or... or coffee or, or anything?"

Shame heated Dan's frosty cheeks; he regretted making his friend uncomfortable to soon into their visit. "Uh... sure, some tea would be nice, thanks."

PJ kept quiet as he filled a kettle and put it on to boil, letting Dan roam to the living room by himself. Dan's numb inner calm was leaking, and he felt his heart begin to beat faster as he thought about the impending reveal he was about to give. It was almost as though they could still pretend nothing had happened if he kept his mouth shut about it, but talking to PJ was about to solidify the facts into existence. But no, he needed to talk about it. He was going to go insane if he didn't.

PJ finished with the tea in a few minutes and entered the living room too, sitting himself in a chair opposite his friend, and Dan couldn't help but feel like he was about to begin a therapy session. Nevertheless, the cup PJ handed him really did do something to comfort him.

"Er..." PJ was fiddling with his teacup handle nervously, and Dan knew it was up to him to start. The worst of it was out, really, but the rest was still going to be difficult. Can't stop now, he reminded himself grudgingly. "Well... it happened like, a week ago, actually. I was just um... really drunk after this party we went to, so I didn't remember it. At all."

PJ looked up from his tea with alarm and Dan scrambled to make the situation sound better.

"I mean, I started things, apparently, and Phil was a bit tipsy, you know."

"Right, 'course." PJ took a breath like he was going to say something, but didn't.

"Are you okay?" Dan asked, cringing. He understood how shocking it must be, and he hadn't thought of that before he decided to talk. He'd been mulling this over for a week; PJ hadn't.

"Yeah! Yeah. I mean, a bit surprised, you know. I figured something had happened, but." PJ gave a tiny, awkward chuckle.

Dan trudged on. I shouldn't have come here. He probably doesn't need this. "Here's the thing, Peej, I mean, I haven't ever even considered going with another guy before, you know that. But like..." Dan swallowed. Putting this into words would have been easier if he already knew how to handle everything. "Phil has, and he's the only one I've ever... We're really close, obviously... and..." His voice dropped to a whisper.

PJ didn't look up from his tea, but he had stopped moving.

"I'm pretty sure we have feelings for each other but like... I don't know what to do. But we haven't been talking much, and this morning we had a row about it, and Phil left..." Dan felt tears begin to well in his eyes, scalding compared to his still-cool skin as they started to spill over. "I don't know how to fix it, I don't know where Phil went, and I just..." Dan was aware that his voice was thick, but he didn't care. "I don't know what to do."

Dan let himself cry as PJ sat there. It had been a week of pent up emotion, but it felt like six years of it. It probably was six years of it.

Finally, PJ cleared his throat. "What was the row about this morning?"

"Well..." How was it best to phrase this? "When we were here last night, Phil was upset about me, and he drank too much. That was when you found him in the loo, yeah?" PJ nodded. "I cleaned him up a bit and we were going to go home and he um..." He coughed. "Gave me a hickey, and I didn't tell him, but he saw it the next morning. He thinks I'm messing with him and I'm confused which I... am..." Dan struggled to express the problem as PJ put a hand to his mouth, thinking. "But I have feelings, too. I just don't know how to say it without sounding like a prick. And I'm afraid of ruining everything."

There, he'd said it. Everything was out. He was out. It still didn't even feel like he was gay or anything, really, but it was still a weight off that surprised him. PJ shifted in his chair.

"Maybe, when he comes back, you should... um... talk to him about how you feel? I'm sure he would want-"

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to talk about it." Dan was sure about that much. Phil was very, very hurt, and he'd rather let everything blow over than dig up the emotions he'd been repressing since Dan had been in his life. Dan knew that now.

"Right, but you really should... Maybe you should do something? To show him? I mean, I doubt you're just... messing around." Dan nodded. PJ still seemed really unsure of what to say about all this, but the fact that he had even listened, and hadn't told Dan off or simply ran away screaming in horror, made him feel a bit better.

PJ's cellphone on the coffee table began to buzz insistently, and both boys let it for a moment before PJ snatched it up. "Probably my mother again, last night I didn't really..." His eyes bulged out of his head.

"What?" Dan asked when PJ didn't say anything and the phone continued to buzz.

"It's Phil," PJ whispered. He glanced at Dan before answering the call. "Hello?"

Dan couldn't hear it, but he knew Phil's voice was there, and he couldn't move. He was rooted to his chair, chained to the fact that Phil had called PJ and not him. Why had he called PJ?

"No, no one's here, why?" Dan strained his ears, but couldn't make out the little voice on the other end of the line. "Oh?" PJ gave Dan a terrified look.

What? Dan mouthed.

"You're just around the corner? Did you walk?" PJ reiterated Phil's half of the conversation, probably for Dan's benefit. Dan felt ice spike into his innards.

"Right, yeah, I'll be there in a second! Yeah. Bye." PJ hung up the phone.

"Hide," he hissed at Dan.


	14. Chapter 14

Dan didn't need to be told twice. In an instant PJ had rushed out toward the front door, tea still in hand and sloshing, while Dan raced into the kitchen. Dan stopped in his tracks when he realized that the kitchen had no outlet.

The kitchen wasn't quite what Dan would've called spacious, with really only some cupboards, a stove, and a fridge on one wall, and some more cupboards and counter space against the wall that separated this room from the living room. He'd expected the third wall connecting them to perhaps frame a door that led off to a dining room, only now remembering that the dining room was the other way, on the other side of the living room... Which meant there was nowhere to go, and with limited seconds to spare, he didn't have a choice. It was only here or back the way he came. He figured quickly that he couldn't turn around to go out the sliding glass door to the balcony, as he'd be visible from the balcony, and he certainly wasn't jumping.

The doorbell rang, and PJ yelled, "Coming!" just for good measure. Dan's eyes locked onto the largest pantry cupboard next to the refrigerator.

It wasn't very tall, nor wide, nor did it seem very deep like a walk-in, but it would have to do.

Dan nearly ripped open the wooden door, grimacing as he took in the shelves of condiments and bulk foods that would impede his ability to fit inside. Was it too late to try and race past PJ and up the stairs or something? But he could hear the front door opening, and he could hear Phil's muffled voice, and nope. It's either this or be caught. Without a second thought, he turned around and backed himself in, shoving his shoulder up into a bag of flour as he did so. He craned his neck sideways, feeling it press up against the ceiling of the cupboard. "Why do I have to be so tall," he muttered before closing the door and sealing himself in darkness.

Too soon, he could hear shuffling in the living room that meant PJ had already ushered Phil inside and sat him down. Their voices were far away, but fairly clear.

"Thanks for being here on such short notice... it looks really nice in here," Phil commented graciously. Dan wracked his brains. Had it looked nice in there? He hadn't thought to look.

"Thanks, I've been cleaning up all morning." Shuffling. A clink. "Oh that... that tea is for you!"

"Twat," Dan muttered under his breath as he remembered he'd left his teacup on the coffee table. It had probably gone a little cold, but if Phil noticed, he was too polite to say anything.

"Thank you! That was really quick..."

"Yeah, yeah, I was already making some tea so I... made you some too." PJ sounded nervous. Dan would have smacked his hand to his forehead if it wasn't squashed between PJ's cereal boxes and the cupboard door.

"Well... thanks!" There was a bit of silence, and Dan imagined Phil sipping on his tea while PJ fidgeted.

"So..." PJ started. "How are y-"

"Could I get some sugar?" Phil interrupted him. Another pause. Too long of a pause.

"...Yeah, sure! Sure." Dan heard the chair cushion sighing as PJ got up and made his way to the kitchen. Dan was pretty sure he knew where PJ kept the sugar- if he wasn't mistaken it was in a tin under his other hand- but he was as still and quiet as possible. Maybe PJ would be expecting him to be here. It wasn't long before PJ reached Dan's cupboard and opened the door, flooding the enclosed space with light.

"Would you like cubes or-" PJ cut himself off with a strangled gasp as he was met with the unexpected image of Dan's all black form in the cupboard. Dan watched the teacup loosen from PJ's grip in surprise, unable to do anything as it plummeted toward the floor. With a loud crash, the cup exploded into shards.

PJ stared at Dan like a statue. "PJ, are you alright?" Phil called from the living room. It was inevitable that he'd be here at any second to see what had broken and to try and help. Dan widened his eyes meaningfully at PJ to tell him to close the cupboard door.

"Yeah, just broke the cup, sorry!" PJ yelled back. "Why are you in here?" he whispered accusatorially, addressing Dan.

"Where else was I supposed to go, you twat, you didn't give me enough time!" Dan hissed back. They both stiffened as they heard Phil stand from the couch. A wild panic flickered inside, and Dan knew it wasn't just because he might get caught, but because he would rather be anywhere else, and nowhere else, than Phil. "Close it," Dan barely mouthed, and PJ did, bumping Dan's nose in the process. He barely bit back a noise of complaint as Phil entered the kitchen.

"Oh, no, your cup! Do you want me to help clean it up?" Phil offered kindly. Fuck Phil and his being so nice all the time. Fuck him and his innocent pretty eyes and his smooth face and how he didn't seem upset at all-

"No! I mean um, no, that's alright. I'll just grab a broom and... um... thanks..." Dan assumed Phil had found the broom first and handed it to PJ. He heard the glass tinkling as it was swept.

"You can wait out on the sofa for me if you-"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about something, Peej." The glass sweeping didn't stop. PJ was probably trying to keep his cool, and Dan hoped he didn't lose it. "I know we don't talk much anymore, but you've always been a good friend... So..."

Now it was Phil who seemed nervous. Dan held his breath.

"Remember when I came over a few years ago and asked you for advice after..." PJ must have nodded, for Phil continued. "Well... it's happened again. But with someone else."

"With Dan?" PJ asked, and Dan could have smacked him. But he was listening too hard, trying to piece together what Phil was talking about, too absorbed to be angry for more than a fleeting second. Someone else?

Phil chuckled, low and not very Phil-like. "Is it obvious?"

PJ didn't answer. Don't you dare tell him, Dan directed at PJ in his head, suddenly afraid that PJ would do something stupid like open the cupboard door and blow the whole charade right now.

Phil stepped a little closer, and Dan actually heard Phil scratching at the back of his neck. It set Dan's skin to gooseflesh. "I guess... I dunno... we've always had a thing for each other, it hasn't been exactly subtle." Phil sounded too collected about this. Phil had been the one upset, hadn't he? His voice wasn't even shaking. "But the thing is, Dan didn't remember anything. It's backwards of what happened last time and... it sucks. I feel awful."

Backwards of what happened last time. What the hell did that mean? Dan had never seen Phil properly in a relationship; he'd seen Phil flirt with people, and he'd known for ages that Phil was bi. But he'd always assumed when Phil mentioned past experiences that they were before Dan.

I've done stuff like this before.

You- You have?

Well, yeah. You know... sex? With a guy?

Maybe that hadn't been as long ago as Dan had thought. Dan himself had spent the night with people, after all, just... not for a really long time. But Phil had said it was years ago, and Dan didn't really know what had happened... It didn't stop him feeling like PJ had just shoved all the teacup's broken pieces into his throat and told him to swallow.

"I can't help you much, mate," PJ said in a raw voice. "It's... different. You live together. And he cares about you." Did the other person not care about Phil? Dan felt his feelings shifting through halfway-felt emotions, numbed only by shock that there was something his best friend hadn't revealed to him. "You told Dan about that, right...?"

"No, I didn't." Phil shuffled a little.

"You really should talk to Dan. Explain to him about how you feel. I don't know the details, but it seems like he cares so much for you already..."

"No... it wouldn't end well, I don't think," Phil murmured, and Dan's stomach dropped. " Even if we did end up..." he halted. So, he had considered it. "I'm not really..."

Dan knew exactly what Phil was going to say the instant the words were out. I'm not good enough. Phil had said it a hundred times in passing, in different forms. In conversation, in live shows, in PJ's bathroom last night. Lousy. I'm so lousy...

Dan steeled himself, knowing what he had to do. He was going to tell Phil what he felt, and he was going to make Phil feel like he was worth it. Because Phil was worth it, and he would never stop being worth it, and Dan couldn't let the person he loved the most go on feeling like this.

He reached out to open the cupboard door.


	15. Chapter 15

Something thudded against the other side of the door with a muffled fwump just as Dan pressed the pads of his fingers to the wood. The cupboard didn't budge.

"Phil, why don't you sit yourself down... I'll bring you out a fresh cup with some sugar," PJ said consolingly, his voice coming from the space directly in front of Dan's head. Ah... he'd leaned on the door. Dan started to push a little harder before he stopped himself.

So, the bugger thought he'd keep Dan from coming out, did he? He felt a surge of annoyance, almost immediately battled by relief; what did he plan on saying once he was out there, anyway? Was he going to spout some Romeo shit and tell Phil he loved him? Phil had literally just said he didn't think getting together would end well.

Nonetheless, Dan frowned at his foiled attempt at making things right. How'd PJ know I was going to open the door, anyway?

Phil paused, apparently still ruminating on his feelings, before giving a drawn out answer. Dan could almost see his flatmate's face in the darkness of the cupboard, glassy, empty, far away, as Phil always was when he was thinking. How many times had he been thinking of Dan, instead of editing and lion facts and fantastic new worlds like Dan had assumed? "...No, I think I'd better get going, Peej. Dan's probably worrying about me."

This was true. If Dan had stayed at the flat, he would have been worried sick, either pacing the halls or walking out the door to find Phil, or leaving him endless calls. Dan closed his eyes, wondering if Phil was checking his phone to see if his flatmate had contacted him. And of course, Dan hadn't. Dan had been at PJ's. He probably looked like he wasn't even concerned about Phil's well-being at all, contrary to what Phil had just said.

"Ah... yeah, you're probably right," PJ agreed quickly. He was definitely trying to get Phil out of the house, but if Phil suspected anything, he didn't question it. The cupboard creaked as PJ lifted himself off it, and Dan stayed still. "Do you want me to drive you or...?"

"No, that's alright. Thanks though." There was a slap as Phil gave his host a hearty pat on the back. "You've done enough, really, I just needed to get that out... it's helping me think, really. You've done loads. I'll get a cab."

Dan couldn't tell if Phil was telling the truth or if it was just a nice thing to say.

"You're sure it's no trouble?" Their voices floated farther away as they exited the kitchen together, and Dan heaved a sigh of relief, suddenly aching to get out of the cramped space.

When he finally heard the front door slam shut, he tumbled out of the cupboard without another moment's hesitation. He stumbled and caught himself on the counter opposite, listening for PJ's footsteps.

What was he supposed to do now? Go back home? Would he tell Phil about this? Would he ask Phil about the past that PJ knew and Dan somehow didn't? PJ re-entered the kitchen, and Dan rounded on him, directing the whirlwind of emotions toward the nearest subject.

"What's this about 'what happened last time'?" Dan accused, letting his tone fall out harsher than he'd planned.

PJ cast his eyes down, guilt settling heavily upon his features. "I didn't know it was like this, Dan, he asked me not to tell anyone, and I didn't think it was exactly dinner conversation... it just didn't come up."

"What happened?" Dan spat, realizing his shoulders were tensed and his stance somewhat threatening. He tried to relax. Whatever happened was years ago, and he knew PJ wasn't at fault; by all rights, Dan shouldn't have known. But he couldn't help but feel a little betrayed, even though he and Phil were never dating and he had no reason to know Phil's every little secret...

"It was a couple years ago, maybe... three...? I can't remember. Phil went to see his parents, while he was there he met up with a bloke he almost dated in uni, they went to a party together. Phil got roaring drunk, and the guy saw his chance."

Dan felt a heavy, nauseous feeling sink into his stomach as he thought of some strange man, faceless, throwing his arm around Phil, handing him more drinks, hitting on him, asking him to go somewhere with a predatory smile. He knew what happened next.

"He woke up the morning after, and didn't remember anything, same as you." PJ put a hand over his eyes, obviously stressed. He knew as well as anyone that Phil was the least deserving person of something like this. "He knew it was all wrong, and it wasn't fair, what had happened. He'd been taken advantage of. But he felt awful about it, too, because he had spurned the guy on and then dumped him the next morning. Never talked to him again."

PJ too a deep breath and uncovered his face, raising his chin to study the ceiling. Dan found himself examining his fingers on the countertop again, bringing him back to the conversation with Phil this morning. Dan... we can't keep doing this.

The last time this happened, Phil had left the guy with all memories of what happened between them, ran away from all the complications of it, and pretended like it never happened. That was harder to do if you actually lived with the guy. Phil had nowhere to run, and now, he felt both like he had taken advantage of someone and had been taken advantage of, himself.

"Phil came to ask me what to do, then, and I'm not sure why he didn't tell you. Embarrassment, I guess. He told me he'd used to fancy you when you first met." Dan felt a sharp spark on the inside, contrary to the darkness of the conversation, at this news. "I told him to let the guy go if he didn't have feelings for him, and he'd get over it. And he did." PJ thought a long moment, maybe waiting for Dan to say something, but Dan stayed silent. He then reached out to place a hand on Dan's shoulder. "Phil's being forced to face everything that guy felt, even if what happened wasn't right. It's hard to be on the receiving end. He's confused, and so are you. It's probably easier to say it didn't mean anything so you can get back to your lives, because it worked for him last time."

Dan didn't know what to say. "Yeah... but..." he mumbled. It made sense. But... it meant Phil didn't want to be with him. Or, he wasn't convinced, maybe. When Phil was in this situation, he hadn't wanted anything to do with the other guy, and he probably assumed Dan felt the same. "What do I do?"

"That's up to you, Dan. But I'd do it soon." PJ sighed. "You know... I hate to say, but I've got a bit more to do before my family comes over this evening, and I really need to get to it."

It took Dan a minute for the words to hit. "No, no, that's fine," he said mechanically. "I'll take a cab home."

"Do you want a coat?" PJ offered as Dan glided out of the kitchen in a haze, through the living room, into the front entryway.

"No... that's fine, Peej, thanks, but I wouldn't want Phil to know I'd been here." He shivered thinking about stepping outside in this weather. "I'll get another cab."

He hugged PJ and thanked him for the help, feeling the weights shift inside. One worry had been lifted off his shoulders: Phil still cared about him, that much was true. He was definitely struggling with his feelings for Dan. But a while new set of concerns had taken its place.

His swirling thoughts started to numb when he'd been standing outside for ten minutes with no success hailing a cab, and his fingers and nose were starting to feel frostbitten. Why hadn't he at least taken a scarf? But no, in his haste to leave, he hadn't even afforded himself that little delicacy.

It was another few before the traditional black taxi stopped itself by the curb in front of Dan, and by the time he had ridden home and paid, he was more than extremely chilled and wishing ardently that he'd never come to see PJ in the first place. He wished he'd decided on something to say to Phil, or at least on some plan of action to carry out later, but if PJ was right about this... he needed to do something now, before Phil decided to shut down everything he'd ever felt for Dan, and it'd be too late. But right now he was shivering so violently that he couldn't see straight, and he felt like his fingers probably couldn't function properly or even hardly move, they were so stiff from cold.

Up the front walk, shuffle through the keys, struggle with the lock using frozen fingers, into the apartment, up the stairs. Too many stairs, and his feet hardly wanted to move. Only the rush of warm air that greeted him at the door kept him in motion. The flat was not deathly quiet, as Dan had thought it might be, but rather, he could hear the familiar accents of what sounded like American Horror Story playing in their living room.

"Phil?" he called out hesitantly, hoping Phil wouldn't shut him down.

He didn't hear anything for a moment. Oh, no. I've screwed up. He's probably ignoring me, he's never going to talk to me again, and-

"Dan?" Phil's feet thudded on the carpet of their floor, and his face appeared at the top of the stairs before Dan was even done ascending them. His eyes were wide, and something in his face relaxed when he saw Dan. "Thank God. Don't do that to me, I've been calling you since I got back, where have- what- did you-" Phil looked his flatmate up and down as Dan halted close to the top, taking in his jacket-less, shaking form.

"H-Hi," Dan chattered. "I-I'm b-back."

Phil swooped down to Dan like a mother bird and hugged him, running his hands up and down Dan's arms to create friction, occasionally placing them on Dan's face to address his burning nose and cheeks. Dan was startled at the sudden display of affection, but the feeling was no nice after being outside for this long that he couldn't help but melt at Phil's warm touches. He let himself be half-carried up the last couple of steps, hugging closely into Phil's comfortable form. After all that had happened, and even their fight this morning, Phil was always going to be there for Dan when he needed it. This was where he belonged. This was what was right.

He had to tell him. Now.

"Ph-Phil-"

"I'll make you some tea. Or hot chocolate? We haven't had hot chocolate in a while, let's have that, I'll make you some..."

Rather than let Dan alone of the couch with a comfortable blanket to await his beverage, Phil pulled Dan into the kitchen with him, keeping one arm around his waist to keep him close to Phil's body heat. Dan couldn't be anything but grateful, and he allowed himself to rest his head tentatively on Phil's shoulder, nuzzling there. It was a little strange, a little new, but it felt so natural that Dan couldn't figure why he hadn't pursued this sooner. If Phil had any resignations, he didn't voice them. Either that, or he thought Dan's warmth was more important.

In no time, Phil was reaching for Dan's hands and curling them around Dan's favorite mug. Dan took it, letting the burning sensation take over his frosty fingers, and Phil led them to the couch. they sat down together, pressed against each other still, and Dan suddenly wondered why Phil was allowing this. He couldn't care though; that Phil was allowing it at all was enough for Dan.

"Thank you," Dan finally said when his chattering had calmed down enough to where he could sip his hot cocoa without spilling it.

Phil rubbed his shoulders a little more, reaching around to pull a blanket off the couch and drape it around his best friend's shoulders. "You're welcome. How long were you outside? Why did you go without a coat?"

"I dunno, I... didn't think about it," Dan slurred, trying both to make his lips work and his brain think clearly through Phil's thigh pressing against his, Phil's scent all over him again. It was disconcerting that his thoughts were once again drawn to the shape of Phil's mouth and hands instead of what needed to be said to fix their relationship. He couldn't be doing this. He needed to focus. "I just left."

"I'm sorry I left and didn't tell you where I was going," Phil apologized in a rush. "I didn't mean to make you worry or anything or... where did you go?"

It was nice, all this was. It was domestic, it was sweet, it seemed right. But it was an illusion, Dan knew, because they'd just had a fight and really, their relationship hadn't been right for a while now. It was that moment that Dan decided to tell Phil the truth, and all of it. If he didn't say it now, he'd hole up forever feeling exactly like he did last week when he was too nervous to say anything, when the time trickled by and it was later and later... and if he chickened out now, he'd always know he had a chance and didn't take it. He had to make Phil understand everything, and the best way to do that was the cold, hard facts. Without witholding anything.

"I went to PJ's."

Phil's hands went still on Dan's shoulders, and Dan missed the comfort they provided even more than the warmth. "PJ's?"

"Yeah. And yeah, I know you were there, and yeah, I heard everything you said."


	16. Chapter 16

Phil was still, completely, and the temperature seemed to notably drop a few degrees. Dan expected him to ask something along the lines of, "What?" or "How?" He even was prepared for Phil to be furious with him, maybe stand and leave the flat again like he had earlier, or to interrogate him heatedly. Any of these would have been a reasonable reaction. Dan had himself braced for the empty feeling when Phil would take his hands away, possibly to never come back. But, curiously, they stayed put, and Dan was a bit unsure of his next words as much as he was ready to say them.

"I got there before you, to ask PJ for advice. And when you called to say you'd be there soon, I hid in the kitchen." The confession came much easier than Dan thought it would, falling out of his mouth flatly and without expression. "And I heard everything you said."

Dan stared down at his knees while he waited for Phil to ingest this, studying the places where his joggers were dusty and starting to wear thin from staying in his pajamas day after day. I really need to start getting dressed more often.

The words were in and out of his head like rubbish thrown carelessly out a car window as he waited for Phil to speak, to leave, to ask him questions. But Phil didn't. Phil still hadn't said anything, and the silence was growing too thick, Phil's hands felt like roots growing over his shoulders, threatening to dig into his skin if he wasn't careful, and if it hurt, Dan wasn't sure how much he could take-

Dan calmed when he reminded himself of his task, that he was here in the first place because he needed to tell Phil something very, very important. While he was still was allowed, Dan turned his face into Phil's shoulder to inhale the beautiful scent there, drawing strength to continue.

"I don't know who that guy was, and I don't care. It's in the past, and it's just... something that happened, okay? It's not fair what he did. And- and even if he was hurt by it, too, it doesn't make you any less of a person."

Phil still wasn't talking; he didn't even ask if PJ was the one to tell Dan the rest of the story. Maybe he assumed it. Dan winced; he had no idea what could be going through Phil's head right now, but he wasn't finished. It felt like talking into empty space, revealing secrets into a microphone that wasn't on. Dan couldn't tell what his audience thought of him, and it was, perhaps, one of the first times he'd gotten nervous during a speech.

"It's so much different, can't you see that? It's not what happened last time at all, because you're not that guy, and you weren't trying to take advantage of me..." Dan flashed back to the panicked morning after, horrified at the twisted sheets and their naked bodies, but leaning across the bed to kiss Phil anyway. "I know you care too much to do that. I mean, God, Phil, even if it wasn't me, you're too nice." He noted this might not have been the most tactful thing to say, and directed himself back to his original thought. "But you're not him, Phil, and I'm not you, I didn't take your place. I care about you, and you made me realize all this, and I didn't say it fast enough because it took me a week to even admit it, and it was too long, but I've always felt like this, I just didn't know it..." You're babbling. What was the one thing he would say if he had to boil it all down? "Phil. Phil..."

There was so much to say. Too much.

"You don't know what it was like, seeing you at PJ's yesterday." Dan's voice started to choke up, either from the memory of last night or from pure nerves, he wasn't sure. He felt Phil's fingers tighten. "You just kept saying you were lousy, and I kept telling you you weren't. You were crying all over the place, and you came at me when I was trying to help you out of PJ's, and I didn't know what to do. And then, when I put you to bed, you were falling asleep, and I dunno... I kissed you." He swallowed. "You're the least lousy person. I don't know how to tell you so you'll believe me."

Phil was still uncharacteristically, ominously quiet. Dan made himself breathe, condensing everything he wanted into a single, powerful thought. "...Phil... I don't regret what happened, even if I don't remember it. That's the main difference. I... I don't regret it."

That was it. That was the whole message. For all the scribbling and crossing out he'd done when he tried to make a list of points to talk about, for all the waffling about what he felt and not getting up the guts to say anything, that was all that mattered. It was what he most wanted Phil to know. Phil was beating himself up inside because he thought Dan looked back on the incident and cringed, ashamed, just like Phil had when it had happened to him years ago. But in truth, it had made Dan question himself and come around knowing better who he was. And it had made Dan sure of what he wanted.

For several breaths, Dan simply listened to the faint beat of Phil's heart in the quiet, and felt his own head shift up and down with Phil's shoulders as they rose and fell at a steady pace. Was Phil going to say anything? Was Phil okay? Had Dan shocked him? Was Phil so angry he couldn't even move? It was so comfortable here, but Dan had to know.

"Phil?" he inquired, raising his head from Phil's shoulder to look at him. He turned his face to find Phil's blue eyes only inches away, wide and unreadable. He'd been looking down, watching Dan as he talked, and for some reason, that image made flowers bloom in Dan's chest. Dan's eyelashes could have brushed Phil's nose.

Dan looked from one open blue eye to the other, drinking them in. Had he ever gotten the privilege to see them this close up before? They weren't just blue, they had light and dark and grey-blue, and they had little seafoam green specks as well, and there was a bit of light gold toward the center. They studied his eyes right back.

"Phil," Dan meant to ask, but it came out in a whisper.

"Dan," Phil murmured back, finally breaking his silence. It was all he had to say.

The space wasn't far to erase the distance between them, but it made all the difference when the blue eyes closed just before Phil's lips pressed down lightly on Dan's.

Dan closed his eyes, too, reveling in the sensation, still half expecting Phil to dissipate like mist at any moment. Even if Phil left, and he never got another chance to touch Phil... this was a thousand times better than when Dan kissed him last night, because Phil was sober, Dan was sober, and everything was out on the table. All of their emotions were exposed, and yet, here they both remained.

Dan wasn't sure how long they'd been locked there before Phil began to move his lips. Dan struggled to move his mouth with Phil's, feeling just as inexperienced as the first time he'd kissed a girl. It was all new, but God, why did it feel like he'd been missing out for years?

Dan shivered as he felt Phil stretch out one hand to touch his face, the other hand reaching around Dan's waist to rest on his lower back. Remembering that it wasn't customary to sit frozen while someone's trying to snog you, Dan put a hand out blindly and felt it connect with Phil's chest. He let the fingers of his other hand wind themselves in Phil's hair when he felt the tip of Phil's tongue on his lips, too.

It was Phil who finally broke the embrace, and Dan found himself wrapped around his flatmate like he'd been drowning, hands clutching tightly. It certainly felt somewhat akin to being submerged underwater for too long; he was out of breath, slightly dizzy, and his lungs didn't work properly. They stared into each other's faces, and Dan was positive he could've gotten lost there if he let himself.

However, in coming back to earth, he remembered that Phil really hadn't said anything besides Dan's name. Dan was never going to let them go without communicating again. "Say something," he croaked, voice unsteady.

"Hmm." Phil blew out a little breath and kissed the tip of Dan's nose. Dan let his eyes flutter shut involuntarily. "You said a lot."

Dan felt Phil's mouth on his again and couldn't even attempt to resist. What a curious feeling, heaven was. As much as he didn't want to, Dan gave a little push on Phil's chest, indicating he really did want Phil to talk, and felt the lips leave him a moment later.

"Phil. Tell me what you're thinking. Please." There had been a lot of misunderstood actions lately, and Dan didn't want to add anything to the pile.

Phil took Dan's hands in his, gazing at them as he thought.

"Okay."


	17. Chapter 17

_Four Months Later_

Spots of pale light filtered in through the curtains of the Lester-Howell flat, courtesy of the April grey skies (usually somewhat of a downer, but not today, no sir, not for a while now). It may have been quiet, just as well because it was before noon; but under closer study, one could observe the colors of a light up kettle as it brewed coffee, the continuous light spattering of water coming from down the hallway, and a clicking every once in a while from a black-clad boy with a laptop, sitting on the sofa with his legs tucked under him, his brown fringe still askew from sleep.

A shout sounded from the hallway, muffled by distance and a few layers of wall. "Love, would you bring me the shampoo? I've left it on the table."

From the lounge, Dan sat up slightly, skin tingling at the use of the word "love". He still wasn't accustomed to it, even though he'd heard it nearly every day since mid-December. It felt like sunshine on the little garden he'd let flourish inside his chest through the beginnings of spring, and he couldn't deny the smile that played on his lips. He was smiling a lot more than he's used to, these days.

Phil, who was currently showering and had been for several minutes, had evidently forgotten to unpack their new shampoo from its Tesco shopping bag earlier. "Sure, be there in a sec!" Dan called back from his position on the couch. He leapt up, grabbing the Tesco bag from the table where Phil had said it would be, and made his way to the bathroom.

Dan swung the door open without knocking and rummaged through the bag, now seeing that there were two options to choose from. "Do you want... raspberry, or... coconut?" He squinted at the labels, suddenly suspicious. Weren't guys' scents normally "pine" and "musk" and things like that? "Are these girls' shampoos?"

"Uh... I dunno, are they? I just picked some that smelled nice."

Dan sighed audibly. "Phil, I'm going to have to use these too, you know-"

"Yeah, and you'll smell nice. Could you shut the door? You're letting the cold air in," Phil cut across Dan, avoiding the approaching rant about soap fragrances. Dan sighed again and turned to shut the door, kicking it closed.

"You know, when we come out, people are going to be asking us 'who's the girl in the relationship' and I'm going to have to tell them it's you," Dan said icily, placing the shampoos on the countertop side-by-side.

"Not true," Phil countered from behind the shower curtain. "Who is the little spoon? Who comes running to my room when they're scared of the future or the dark and they can't sleep? Who cuddles and hides their eyes during scary movies?"

"I'm taller," Dan asserted.

Phil went on like there had been no interruption. "Who are those flowers on the table for? Who likes being called 'pretty'? And, who nitpicks over what I wear, whose cereal I eat, how much sugar I leave on the counter, and what the shampoo smells like-"

"OKAY, okay," Dan acceded, face burning and trying not to smile. "I surrender, you win, fine. Raspberry or coconut?"

Phil had a bit of a quiet laugh to himself before answering. "You can... hand me the... uh..." Dan could almost see Phil's nose wrinkling up. "Coconut, I guess."

Phil's face popped out from behind the curtain, hand sticking out to receive the item. Dan handed it to him, cheeks flushing again as Phil didn't immediately go back to showering, instead letting his gaze gaze travel up and down Dan's body.

"You look cute like that. Wanna join me?" Phil grinned goofily.

Dan rolled his eyes. "Subtle."

Phil cracked up. "Come on, it's the best I've got! My wild charms haven't failed me before." He disappeared behind the curtain again, and Dan heard a click! followed closely by the sweet smell of the new soap.

"No, but I'd rather have our second-first time be without the danger of slipping to our deaths, thanks." He was relieved when Phil took this positively, giving Dan another chuckle before thanking him for bringing the shampoo and promising to be out in a while to help make breakfast.

Dan exited the bathroom, humming cheerily, and found the coffee to be done brewing when he checked. He poured himself some first, mixing up Phil's second so it'd still be hot when he got out of the shower, and headed back to the couch.

Honestly, these had been some of the better four months of Dan's life, quite possibly the best, but he still wasn't quite ready for the politics that came with the physical relationship. He'd asked Phil if they could take it slow, as being with guys was a fairly alien concept to Dan anyway, and Phil had been more than willing to accommodate these wishes; therefore, they hadn't experimented much. "We practically have forever, Dan, there's no rush. It's not like either of us are going anywhere." Dan knew it was true and it made his insides all rosy whenever he thought about it.

Of course, they had made up back in December, and of course, nothing could go wrong now that all their feelings had been spoken. It still gave Dan a little rush, thinking about that day, remembering the first time they'd kissed, reminiscing on how unsure he was about the whole thing despite his clear emotional standing. Waiting for Phil, warm coffee clasped tightly in his hands, Dan slid back into memories.

"Phil, tell me what you're thinking. Please."

"Okay."

Phil rubbed Dan's hands thoughtfully, taking the edge off of Dan's nerves about everything that was suddenly happening between them. It honestly wasn't much of a leap from their usual behavior, and if Dan was being truthful, this felt more natural than having to remember which actions crossed the platonic line and which ones didn't.

"I guess I have some questions," Phil murmured.

Dan sighed, preparing himself. He had known this was coming, and yet, his chest still tightened in embarrassment at the thought of explaining some things to Phil that didn't already know. "Yeah?"

"Okay... first of all, where on earth were you hiding at PJ's house?" Dan looked up sharply to find Phil's eyes crinkling, trying not to smile and failing. "I mean, seriously. Where could a giant like you even fit?"

Dan poked Phil in the side, sending him into a fit of giggles. "Twat. I was in the cupboard."

In the subsequent talk, Phil had explained himself much how Dan had suspected: Phil'd had a crush on Dan, tried to ignore it, and had spent the night with some guy named Luke sometime after their failed Valentine's Day prank, making it all the worse when the video blew up and they had to remove it from Youtube. He had struggled with his feelings since they'd known each other, and when Dan hadn't remembered their drunken night of fun after the party, Phil had equated his own actions with Luke's, and assumed Dan was just messing around. "The whole thing was a mistake," Phil said. "I should have never even went to dinner with the guy. I think I knew something was going to happen, but I was being stupid." From then on, he tried to be the best he could for Dan- the best that a best friend could be. It had all made Dan realize that whatever he said, Phil wasn't going to run out the door just because Dan had some feelings for his best friend. Phil was always going to be there, and it was all because they loved each other, in the truest sense of the word. They always had.

The sharp ringing of their doorbell brought Dan out of his happy contemplation. Who dared disturb the great Dan and Phil before noon? The post had already come around seven, earlier than either of them were willing to get up, and Dan had sleepily prodded Phil to get it even though it was the younger's turn. That made a debt of four days he owed Phil, plus he'd been using Phil's bed for the last past two and a half weeks straight... But, in any case, that ruled out the post man.

"Love, would you get that? I'm still not dressed!" Phil yelled from the bathroom.

Dan didn't answer back in case it ended up being someone he didn't want to open the door for; he didn't want them to know anyone was here, if that was the case. So, he padded as quietly as he could down the stairs and put an eye up to the peep hole, slightly annoyed that anyone was going to interrupt their lovely morning.

He definitely didn't expect there to be a man he'd never seen before standing on their doorstep, bearing a small bunch of wildflowers and a tiny stuffed lion.


	18. Chapter 18

Dan watched the man for a moment, just to see what this was about; he had half a mind to tell the guy he had the wrong house, but the little stuffed lion, innocently tucked under the man's arm, kept Dan silently pressing his eye to the door. The view through the peep hole stretched the man's frame in odd places, making Dan think back to the Photo Booth challenge and smile a little.

The stranger shifted from foot to foot, gazing down at the pavement, his free hand traveling through his blond hair and straightening his bowtie every few seconds. He had on a light purple button-up, short sleeved, and a nice looking pair of skinny jeans with equally nice looking dress shoes.

Dan's smile fell.

This was no flower delivery boy.

Dan clenched his jaw as he continued watching, confusion etching his features into hard lines. That stupid stuffed lion meant the stranger had the right house, unless this was some really, really weird coincidence and he was doting on someone else who was reputedly obsessed with lions. Or, this could be a fan who somehow found out their address and... brought Phil a little bouquet of wildflowers? If the guy was a wayward fan, should Dan even open the door?

"Is there anyone out there?"

Dan jumped at the whisper from behind him; he was so focused, he hadn't heard Phil come down the stairs. He worried suddenly that he'd been too loud, but the stranger at their doorstep remained aloof, now fingering the flowers. "Yeah," Dan breathed, not taking his face away from the door. "I'm not sure who it is, though. Have a look."

Dan shuffled aside so Phil, now fully dressed but still with wet hair, could peer through the peep hole as well. A moment passed as Phil stilled, just staring out, and Dan noted he could smell the coconut shampoo. It did smell nice. But they had more important matters at hand.

"Do you know him?" Dan murmured. He was surprised to see Phil's mouth slant downward into a rare, hard frown.

"Yeah," Phil muttered, and in a half a second, he had thrown open the door, barely giving Dan enough time to scramble out of the way. The blonde at the doorstep gasped, almost comically, and the tiny lion went tumbling from his grasp.

"I- sorry- I mean, hello-" he stuttered, diving down to collect the toy and straightening up again in an instant, face red. Dan watched over Phil's shoulder as the man extended his bouquet, the flowers trembling. "I- these are- here."

He thrust them at Phil, who gave the flowers a look that could have withered them to dust before slowly taking them. The stranger held out the lion uncertainly, and Phil calmly accepted this as well. Dan's brain was working overtime trying to figure out what was going on as the two stared at each other, the air thick between them.

Phil, awkwardly, didn't say anything, and Dan became increasingly aware of how impolite it was not to invited the nervous blonde in, despite the fact that there was some massive disconnect between him and Phil that normally didn't exist. He had to do something.

"Would you like to sit down and have tea? Or-"

Phil shot Dan a scathing look that clearly read be quiet, and Dan shut up, pursing his lips. Okay, if that was how Phil wanted it, fine. But Phil wasnever this rude, especially not to Dan, and the younger was a bit stung.

"What are you doing?" Phil addressed the man, and Dan was helpless to save the situation as the guy seemed to melt in fright.

"I- um- I just wanted to come by, and um-" His eyes darted to Dan, and Dan felt a little spike of jealousy as he saw how pretty the guy's eyes were; light green, edged with blue toward the outside and a almost reddish-brown in the center, like he was staring into a piece of the rainbow. They were certainly prettier than Dan's plain brown, and he felt suddenly self-conscious. "I understand if you're- um- busy-"

"Are you apologizing?" Phil asked cuttingly.

"Phil-" Dan tried. What had gotten into him? Who was this guy?

Phil didn't break. He stared the blonde down from a few inches above, waiting for an answer.

"Yes," the stranger finally said in a small voice.

Phil looked the guy up and down, suddenly seeming to lose steam. "...Kay," he said uncertainly. The guy stood there like a cornered mouse, breathing quickly, eyes wide, until Phil spoke again. "How'd you get this address?"

"I uh... PJ gave it to me."

Okay, now it was really starting to get weird. How come Dan didn't know this guy? Was Phil keeping something from him? He prodded Phil in the back roughly, still hurt and confused as to why he didn't know, and why Phil was being so... not-Phil. "What's going on?"

Phil squinted at the guy, still not acknowledging Dan, and Dan's ears started to ring as he was ignored. "You do know it's been years? Years," Phil said evenly, like Dan wasn't even there. But Phil's temper was finding reasons to flare up again. "And you come here to- what, court me or some shit?"

Okay. Phil had cursed, and this definitely needed to be sorted out. "Okay, Phil, let's just go back inside, let's talk about this-" He pried Phil away from the door step, pried because although Phil wasn't holding onto anything, his shoulders would hardly budge. Reluctantly, Phil turned, brushing past Dan coldly and leaving him and the blonde still at the door.

Dan and the stranger stood, the stranger looking down at the ground again, Dan struggling to find words.

"Right... sorry, he's not usually like that," Dan mumbled, unsure of what to say to... whoever this was, in Phil's absence.

"I... That's okay," the guy said. His shoulders slumped, his whole body dragging. "I deserve it, really."

"Sorry," Dan said again anyway. "What's your name?"

"Luke," the guy said, and it all fell into place. Dan waffled suddenly, not really struck by the news, but instead wondering what to think: on one hand, this was really awkward. Here was the guy he'd been so upset over just a few months ago, a secret Phil had held from him in the past, a ghost of Phil's insecurities haunting their doorstep. Dan had thought briefly before that if he met Luke, he'd tell him off and say Phil had a lot better than him now, or something equally as hot-headed to assuage the wrong that'd been done to his boyfriend.

On the other hand, Luke was sort of short, not so intimidating, not so much of a dick as Dan would have liked to think. And he seemed so steeped in his own guilt that he couldn't even bother defending himself. This wasn't the unrestrained, shameless prick Phil led him to believe had taken advantage of him all that time ago.

"Look..." Dan hung inside the doorway, aware that Phil's sudden anger was going to pick up again at any minute if he knew Dan was still talking to his... ex? Dan didn't know if that was exactly a worthy term. "Come back in like an hour, okay." He shut the door before Luke could say any more.

Why was this guy so invested in Phil if they hadn't even dated? PJ had said they were interested in each other in uni, but surely that wasn't enough to necessitate wildflowers and a lion, along with an apology several years too late? There was something going on here, something more than Dan was aware.

And if that was true, then Dan needed to start assessing who it really was that he was dating. If he was truthful about it, he really wanted to just go back inside and pretend it hadn't happened, as Phil was likely banking on. But he couldn't keep living like this, knowing there was something they hadn't talked about- it was going to drive a wedge between them if they didn't. Dan thought he knew pretty much everything there was to know about Phil, all his dark secrets and every embarrassing fact about his life, and Phil knew his... but apparently, Dan was mistaken.

There was the way Phil had acted, too- like he was going to laser the guy with his eyes right there in front of their flat. It wasn't like Phil at all. And Luke had been afraid, cowering, almost. And Phil hadn't even given him the time of day. Phil had said he felt bad about what happened, too, Dan remembered... or had PJ said it? There was some kind of guilt there, anyway, and maybe it wasn't all because Phil was too sweet of a person.

Maybe Phil had done something awful, too. Dan's breath stopped at the thought; he could hardly imagine Phil doing anything remotely harmful to another human being... well, except until just now when he'd been rude to Luke, and brushed Dan off like a speck of dust. When usually they danced around calling each other love, for fuck's sake. Maybe Phil kept up that "pure cinnamon roll" persona for just the internet, and for Dan, to cover up whatever guilt he was hiding for... something. Dan really didn't know a whole ton about how Phil was before he'd started his Youtube channel. Maybe, really, he was an entirely different person somewhere on the inside, trying to atone for past misdeeds by living a different lifestyle.

And if that was the case, then they needed to have a talk, and it needed to be now. Because suddenly, there was a possibility that Dan didn't know who he was dating, who he was living with, who he had been best friends with for the past six years. He had no idea, and it scared the shit out of him.


	19. Chapter 19

Dan inched up the stairs reluctantly, a dead man walking, feeling like he was speeding along toward his own demise. A stranger in his own home, with a boyfriend he wasn't sure he knew anymore despite years of everything shared. What was life if he didn't have Phil? What was life if he couldn't trust? What was life? Did whatever he chose in this moment even matter?

Not the time, he reprimanded his brain when he realized this was the makings of an existential crisis. Instead of dwelling upon the dismal thoughts that were raising their heads for the first time in months (and definitely not contemplating sitting at his existential crisis spot on the landing), he peered into the lounge cautiously.

No Phil.

He felt vaguely like he was searching for a serial killer that could ambush him at any minute, and his mind roamed to all the fanfictions he'd read where Phil went crazy and tortured him somehow. Also not the time! Dan shook himself and pressed on, prodding open the glass door to the kitchen.

Ah- there was Phil. Dan froze. The door swung shut behind him.

Phil was leaning over the counter, his back to Dan, face hidden, motionless. He didn't acknowledge Dan's presence. The moment was suspended in time, and Dan didn't really think he wanted to see Phil's expression right now.

"Ph-Phil?" Dan stuttered. He winced as his voice squeaked. He held his breath.

In a flash, before Dan could even see his boyfriend's face, Phil had launched himself away from the counter and flattened Dan against the glass door. His lips, usually unfailingly soft and gentle, were rough and demanding against Dan's, a familiar comfort blown to bits. Against Dan's will, Phil pressed on, forcing Dan's mouth open with his own and running his hands down Dan's arms, holding him down.

If Phil had sprung this surprise on him a different day, when everything was still okay, Dan would have probably enjoyed it. After all, normally, he had no reason to be scared of his flatmate.

But right now, he was terrified.

The initial shock only took a few seconds to wear off, and when it did, Dan found his hands to reach up and shove into his boyfriend's torso. Phil staggered backward into the counter, chest heaving.

"What the hell is going on with you?" Dan shouted, keeping his distance, one hand on the kitchen door handle.

Phil didn't answer, and for the second before anything else happened, they were just breathing heavily into the enclosed space, Dan desperately unaware of what was in his boyfriend's head.

He definitely didn't expect Phil to burst into tears and nearly crumble onto the counter.

There was no time Dan could spare to recover from surprise; no matter why Phil was crying, it was like Dan had a system override that demanded him to drop everything and tend to him. So, in an instant, Dan had crossed the kitchen and wrapped Phil in his arms, letting him cry openly into his shoulder.

"Shh, Phil." Dear God. He had really hoped nothing would make Phil cry like this again since PJ's horrible birthday party, but as it was, he patted Phil's back in what he hoped was a soothing matter.

"God, I'm so sorry, Dan," Phil choked out. "I don't- I just- I love you so much-"

Okay. This was a while lot different that Mr. About-To-Murder-My-Ex, and Dan could deal with this. It was obvious from his sobbing that Phil was still Phil, not some sudden monster. But though Dan was more relieved than anything that he wasn't in imminent danger... he still didn't understand. "I know, I know, I love you too," Dan assured him quickly, really just wanting to staunch those tears, unsure of what to ask. He didn't care if Phil really had done something awful in his past- Phil was still made of gold, as Dan had always thought and always would think, and he should not have to cry like this. "You... saw that guy, Luke, and it's emotional, I get it, really," Dan murmured against his hair as Phil took some steadying breaths to calm himself down. Dan had that wrong feeling again, the knowledge that Phil shouldn't have to need comforting because Phil was perfect. It should have been the other way around. "But I don't get what happened, Phil. You're not being yourself."

Phil sniffled wetly, keeping his head buried far into his boyfriend's shoulder, and it struck Dan that Phil actually could be having some backlash embarrassment about his behavior at the front door. It took Phil nearly a minute to answer. "I just... didn't want you to think I loved anyone else," Phil mumbled sheepishly.

"What?" Dan pulled away from his flatmate a little so he could look at him; the black-haired man's eyes were red, and just as watery as the ocean in his irises. "Phil. Listen to me. I don't think you love anyone else. I'm not going to think that. And I mean, I don't deserve you, but..." he swallowed the sudden tightness in his throat and pulled Phil back into his chest so he didn't have to look at him. "If I thought that you didn't love me, I'd talk to you about it, you know? You matter to me. I love you, too."

"Excuse me?" It was Phil's turn to sound incredulous, even through his stuffy nose and raw throat. Dan knew he had focused on the 'I don't deserve you'. "You're good enough for me, and you always will be. Don't you dare say that about my Dan."

Dan smiled a little at that- he was Phil's Dan. A couple tears that he hadn't been aware of forming fell onto his cheeks, and he gave a shaky laugh. A laugh purely from tension releasing. They were okay. He didn't have to fight with Phil. He didn't have to break up with him. They didn't have to lose each other after four short, glorious months.

"Hey, now," Phil whispered, tilting Dan's chin down to look at him and wiping a tear with his thumb. "We can't both be crying when we love each other."

But in another few seconds, that's exactly what they were doing. They clutched at each other for dear life, not fearful that one or the other would float away, but more reminding themselves that this was real, that they were okay, that they still had each other. That they loved each other.

A few minutes passed before they quieted, and Phil finally asked Dan if he wanted some more coffee, and Dan nodded yes in place of words. They detangled themselves a bit reluctantly, and Dan leaned against the counter as Phil brewed a new pot.

"Let's try not to do that one again, eh?" Dan said weakly. He meant it as a joke, but it fell a little flat; nevertheless, Phil seemed to understand.

"I'm just glad we got the reminder that we love each other," he said, mostly to the coffee pot. Dan blushed.

"So... what was that about actually, though?" Dan wondered. "I mean... you didn't have to be..."

"I was being a prat, I know," Phil admitted readily. "I dunno... I just wanted to make it clear that I didn't have any feelings, you know... left over or anything..."

"Oh my God, Phil." Dan rolled his eyes; yeah, this situation had a bit of gravity to it, but now that it had been resolved with such a simple solution, he couldn't help but make light of it. "Overkill."

Phil smiled, but was evidently too terse to give even a small chuckle. "Sorry. I didn't know what to do, I was really surprised."

"So was I." He thought back to how he hadn't really been shocked to figure out who it was, but how nice Luke was compared to Dan's image of him. And... oh, shit. Dan had told him to come back in an hour, hadn't he. What were they going to do when he got back? Awkwardly explain that Phil didn't mean to be rude?

"At least we probably don't have to deal with him again, right?" Phil remarked opportunely. Dan cringed.

"Ah... about that, Phil..."


	20. Chapter 20

Phil kept his back to Dan, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into a mug for each of them. The pleasant expression he had didn't change. He giggled. "What, you didn't like, tell him to come back or something, did you?"

Dan blew out a breath. Oh boy. "Um... well, actually, when you left, and he told me who he was, I kind of thought... well, you know, if you talked to each other... I-I mean, if you calmed down first... But I didn't know... um..."

Phil gradually stopped moving, one of his hands on the sugar tin on their counter. "...You did tell him to come back?"

Dan really didn't want scary Phil to come back, and he hastily added, "Well, yeah, but I mean we could... I could just send him away if- if he comes, he might not, really!" He reached over to rub a hand across Phil's shoulder consolingly.

Phil didn't seem angry. Instead, he slowly turned to hand Dan one of the coffee mugs, his hand shaking a little.

"Phil? Are you okay?"

Phil gulped and turned back to his cup. "Yeah. Sure. I just... what should I say to him?"

"Um... apologize, I guess? Let him say his bit? He brought you flowers, he probably didn't know we were dating." Dan surprised himself by realizing he didn't even feel jealous- Phil didn't love Luke, so it didn't even matter if Luke was trying to get with him or not. Plus, Phil's ex was amiable, and maybe- if everything didn't get too awkward too fast- maybe they could all become friends? Maybe that was wishful thinking, but they could still make an effort.

Together, Dan and Phil left the kitchen for a couch in the lounge, neither of them touching their coffee.

"When's he coming over?" Phil asked as they stared at the blank screen of the television.

"I told him to come over in an hour, so like... I dunno... forty-five?"

"Right."

Dan sipped his coffee. "Should we even tell him we're together? I mean, you could just say you've found someone else, or that you don't want anything with him or something. He could tell someone."

"We could always threaten him," Phil said, his mouth twisting into a smile.

"I'm pretty sure he's already scared enough!"

Phil wiggled his eyebrows. "A little more couldn't hurt."

"Oh my God, Phil." Dan threw a pillow at him and Phil fell over on the couch cushions in defeat, giggling. "Phil, really, what should we tell him?"

Phil sat up and shrugged, regaining his breath before he answered. "Nothing, I guess. I can just kind of say... I accept his apology and... sorry for being weird, and like... have a good life?"

Hmm. Not much in the way of staying friends. "I think that's a good start, yeah."

The block of time before Luke's questionable return was spent cuddling on the couch, talking about new videos they should make, Phil's upcoming trip to Manchester to visit his family, anything to get Phil's nerves off of Luke's arrival.

They didn't talk about why Luke had even decided to bother with Phil years after he had the chance, or what he thought he'd gain by actually figuring out the address to their flat and apologizing in person. It didn't even cross Dan's mind.

The ring from the doorbell came somewhere around ten minutes late, when Dan was just beginning to relax a little, thinking Luke had been too spooked to come back. Neither of the boys moved.

"Should I get it?" Dan whispered, though there was no reason to be quiet.

"No, just... come with me," Phil murmured, and detached his arms from around Dan so they could get up. They ambled down the stairs together to the door, Dan making sure they were a fair distance apart before Phil eased it open.

There was Luke again, still short, still wearing his pastel purple button-up, still with his way-cooler-than-brown eyes, his hands anxiously twisting together without anything to hold onto this time. And, wow, how did Dan not notice the hair last time? Luke's hair was quiffed in such a way that it looked effortless, almost perfectly windswept, and Dan felt vaguely inferior again as the blonde stared at them with wide eyes.

"Hi," Phil started, his tone already considerably kinder as he offered a smile. Luke blinked back some apparent surprise. "I'm sorry about earlier... I was just..." Phil glanced over at Dan for support, and Dan nodded subtly in encouragement. "I was just surprised, that's all. Do you want to come in? Have some tea?"

"Er... are you sure?" Luke's colorful eyes darted between the boys, and Dan noticed how his accent was similar to how Phil's used to be before they moved in together. "I mean, I've said... if you want me to go, I can-"

"It's no trouble," Phil assured him. He held the door out a little wider, and Dan moved aside to let Luke in. The blonde hesitated, but stepped over the threshold after a second look into the taller boys' faces. Dan couldn't make his smile, for some reason, so he only hoped his own expression wasn't anything too off-putting as they ascended into the lounge.

Once inside, Dan offered to put the kettle on before leaving Phil and his beautiful ex-lover in the lounge together, letting his boyfriend have some time to apologize before he re-entered the scene. He opted to stay in the kitchen a little longer than necessary, alternately fiddling with the fridge magnets and leaning over the counter to think.

Why was he so... jealous? No, jealous wasn't really the term. He didn't have any bad feelings about letting the two alone together; he trusted Phil completely, and Luke seemed far too polite to actually initiate anything, even if he didn't know Phil was taken. No, Dan was more focused on the colorful, interesting eyes, the innocent demeanor that was closer to Phil's, the cute pastel aesthetic that was going on with this bloke. The fact that Luke had been to uni with Phil and therefore was more educated than Dan. It all made Dan feel... inadequate, like the milestones he and Phil had conquered together, their fame and their position in life, meant nothing at all. Why did it make him feel like that?

Luke's not better than you, Dan argued with himself. He's just another guy who's trying his best at life, same as you. Who knows what he even does for a living? He's probably not that interesting. Why was this bothering him? Why did he feel like this? It wasn't that he was afraid Phil would choose Luke, or even that Luke was a better match for Phil than Dan; by all means, Dan still felt he and his flatmate were perfect for each other. It was something else, something unfamiliar, something Dan couldn't put his finger on.

When he'd made enough tea for the three of them, he quietly set some of their tea mugs on a tray, squared his shoulders, and headed back to the lounge.

What he saw made him relax a little. The tension in the room had dissipated; Phil at least looked to be enjoying himself now, and Luke's frame had loosened to lounge into the sofa. Luke was laughing at a story Phil was telling, and Phil's hands were in the air, gesturing wildly.

"And then Danika threw the pigeon down, and it swooped right over Professor Gan's- Oh! Hey Dan."

Dan raised an eyebrow and set the tray down, amused but glad to see they'd made up already, as Luke began to giggle at the absurdity of the story. "Threw a pigeon, eh? I have yet to hear that one."

Phil's face colored as Luke laughed even harder, and Dan couldn't control his own smile; Luke reminded him of a Northern version of Tyler Oakley, sort of.

"It was the Great Pigeon Incident!" Phil tried to defend himself. "Luke's heard about it, I just didn't know he wasn't there for it, and I was, so I thought I'd-"

"Right, right, you don't have to explain." Dan waved a hand and sat down next to Phil, farther away than he would have normally. Phil and Luke both leaned to grab a mug from the tray. "Was that in uni?"

"Yeah," Luke piped up. "I think I missed class that day. What a shame."

"Were you in the same classes?" Dan asked, and that started a whole new aspect of the conversation.

Dan sat back and listened, for the most part, only speaking up when Luke asked Phil about his life and about what they did outside the internet (Luke explained that he knew of their success with youtube, but hadn't watched many videos). He learned through inquiry that Luke had been pursuing the same major as Phil, though he graduated a year later and had now scored himself a job video editing for a major film company. Dan bit back that weird feeling again, not quite jealousy, because he'd never wanted to be a video editor really, but that other feeling. He kept wondering as Luke talked whether those rainbow eyes were fake color contacts, and decided eventually that they weren't.

When their meeting had gone on for a little less than an hour, Dan began to pull out some of his more sarcastic comments (the poor guy wasn't petrified of Phil anymore, so he figured it was safe), pleased when Luke laughed loudly at all of them. Luke had his own sense of humor, something that placed in between Phil's ridiculous facts about animals and Dan's dark jokes; if Phil was sunshine and Dan was darkness, Luke was something of a luminescence, bright like Phil but with shade in some areas.

They never got around to asking what really spurred Luke to finally decide to seek Phil out and apologize. It just didn't come up.

Eventually, the blonde said he needed to get back home and work on some thing he'd been neglecting, but he expressed the want to see them again- and, to Dan's surprise, Phil nodded in agreement.

"That's really good, actually, because I've been needing to use the loo for the last half hour," Phil quipped, and they all burst into more laughter.

"Jeez, I'll let you go then," Luke said as they stood from the couch."We should all get together for coffee sometime, this was really nice. Or, I can drop by sometime later this week, I've got this aunt that's a baker, she's coming to visit this week, and she always makes walnut bread and forgets I'm allergic to walnuts- do you guys want it?"

Dan and Phil both assured Luke that they did.

"Ah, okay, let me give you my number, in case you want to contact me..." Luke whipped an official looking notepad and a pen from his back pocket (something editors always carry? Dan wondered) and scribbled his number down, handing it to Phil. "And just tell me when you guys want to get together! Alright, I'll go so you can pee, Phil."

Phil nodded his head and scrambled off to the bathroom, leaving Dan to escort their guest to the door. Once down the stairs, instead of opening the door, Luke turned around to face Dan. Surprised at the proximity of the blonde's face, especially his fantasy eyes, Dan took a step backward. Luke eased the little notebook out of his back pocket a second time, writing down what looked to be... his number again?

"Here, you'd better have this too... in case I can't get a hold of Phil, or something." He folded up the piece of paper before, to Dan's shock, slipping it into the front pocket of Dan's jeans instead of simply giving it to him. "Text me." Without another word, he opened the door and left.

And that's how Dan found himself at his front door with another boy's number in his pocket, still confused about how their lazy morning had turned into something else so damned fast.


	21. Chapter 21

"I'll be fine," Phil assured his boyfriend as they descended the stairs of their flat together.

It was close to noon on Wednesday, four days since their encounter with Phil's ex, and Dan was too nervous to be left alone. Their four month anniversary had been two days ago, and of course they had taken the time to have a romantic candlelit dinner at home. But between organizing Phil's trip to see his family, finalizing their book, making videos, designing new merch, booking tour dates, making the seven second challenge app, and running their radio show... well, they just didn't make much of a celebration out of it.

Not to say neither had wanted to. Dan, specifically, had tried the hardest; he was hoping that maybe they could have some new sorts of "alone time" than normal, and hinted at it in more ways than he could count. Phil didn't get it, and not only that, but the older of the two was too tired to stay up with Dan past ten in the evening. Dan curled up on the couch, electing not to come to bed until the wee hours of the morning; even then, he slept on the edge of the bed and faced away from Phil. When he woke up, Phil had made him coffee, but their morning had progressed somewhat more quietly than usual. The edge of tension in the air was unmistakable.

Dan couldn't wait for everything to settle down so they could relax with each other again. But, for the time being, they could only do the best they could.

Now, Dan was actually looking forward to some time alone, though he knew in truth that he would miss his flatmate as he always did when they were separated. They'd decided it was best that Dan stay behind to keep running their work, and Dan had agreed because Phil desperately needed a break anyway. Still, a bit of anxiety roiled in his chest when he thought about answering the door without Phil, having to get the post by himself, watching films alone, turning all the lights on at night, and sleeping in an empty, cold bed. What he wouldn't miss was Phil's clipped responses lately, his reluctance to cuddle for a bit to take a break from work, and his straight face when Dan cracked a joke.

"I know you'll be fine," Dan answered curtly. "I just worry, trains are scary. Remember when I used to visit you in Manchester?" Dan had always come out of the train station jittery and shaking when he came for a visit, back when the duo were first friends.

"Yeah, but I'm not afraid of other people," Phil said amusedly. Dan frowned.

"Fine. Just... text me when you get there, okay? So I know you're safe?"

Phil rolled his eyes. "Okay, mum." He saw Dan's fallen expression and reached out to touch his face, his tone a little more kindly. "Nothing's going to happen to me, Dan. I want you to relax a little while I'm gone, too, okay?"

"Okay," Dan mumbled, not meeting Phil's eyes. In truth, he wasn't extremely worried about Phil's journey; he'd been to see his family loads of times, and it wasn't a dangerous trip. He was just trying to stretch their conversation a little longer, to delay their goodbye by a few precious seconds.

"You'll be okay, too, love." He lifted his hand from Dan's face, taking a step backward to unlock the door. "I'll see you soon, alright?"

"Alright," Dan agreed without thought, and Phil was out the door and gone a moment later.

He didn't kiss me goodbye, Dan thought to himself, but he batted the words away before they could fully hit him. Phil was busy and his mind preoccupied, that was all. He'd be better about the relationship once he cleared his head and came back after his trip. And Dan would be okay.

Another ten hours later, when it was dark and Phil still hadn't texted him, Dan was convinced he would not be okay.

Situated on the couch with malteasers bags littering the floor and all the lights on, Dan was drowning his stresses away with Pimm's and champagne. Or, he had been for the last couple of hours until he finished his fifth glass, where he had given up on putting further effort into mixing and had decided to drink straight from the two bottles.

The two had been saving the champagne for a special night, which Dan had previously hoped would be their anniversary, and Dan had been getting along fine without it for most of the day. But, after seeing Phil's tweet about reaching his family with no problems but receiving no text to indicate if he was safe, Dan had made the executive decision that now was a better time than ever. He wasn't drunk yet; just tipsy, in more of a "fuck it" mood than anything else. He hadn't really been drunk since the entire ordeal in December, as if the two were afraid, still. It only struck him as ironic now that he was expressly trying to get shitfaced while Phil wasn't here.

When the doorbell rang, half of Dan immediately asked himself if he was more drunk than he thought. Who did they know that came around at ten at night? Maybe someone was checking in on him. Maybe it was Phil coming back already, even though Dan knew it wasn't. Maybe it was a fan. Maybe not. But when the doorbell rang a second time, Dan roused himself unsteadily from the couch and stumbled down the stairs for a look.

A glance through the peephole told him all he needed to know. It was Luke again, in a sky blue button up this time, with something large and square item in one hand. Dan's brain slowed as he squinted, trying think through the fog and make out the thing. He really, really didn't want to see Luke right now, or anyone else, for that matter. And what could Luke want that had to be right now?! He'd be inclined to head back up to the lounge and leave Luke unattended if he hadn't just made all the ruckus of an elephant coming down the stairs. Choosing the polite thing and hoping to God this interaction would be over briefly, Dan unlocked the door and opened it.

It became immediately apparent that the thing Luke was holding was a covered pan of bread, and Dan berated himself internally for not remembering that their friend was supposed to come by this week. A smile spread on Luke's face as the door swung open.

"Hi!" he said enthusiastically, only for his face to drop a moment later as he took in Dan's scuffled appearance. The taller boy was, in fact, in his joggers, probably with chocolate all over his face and clothes, also probably reeking of alcohol.

Dan brushed away a few crumbs from his shirt self-consciously and tried not to slur. "Hey... uh... what are you doing here? You are aware of what time it is, right?" Dan winced. He knew very well that his social filter would be gone after a certain amount of alcohol, and, yeah, that was definitely rude.

"Oh, um, yeah! Sorry it's so late." Though slightly wilted in the wake of Dan's comment, Luke's smile didn't completely deflate. He was still trying to be cheery, obviously. "I couldn't get away from my grandma until late, and I figured you'd be up... she gave me another walnut bread, so I thought I'd bring it over to you guys."

Dan screwed up his face, trying to figure out what bothered him about this statement. Then: "Hold on, I thought it was your aunt that was the baker?"

Luke blinked. "Yeah! Yeah it is my aunt, but I was at my grandma's house. My grandma saw my aunt earlier today, and she gave her the bread to give me! Sorry."

Dan shut his eyes, all the "she"s and "her"s blending into a soup before he could understand them. "Yeah, right, okay. Phil's not here, though, so you should come back later."

Luke's smile fell dramatically. "He's not?"

Dan sighed. He really didn't want to explain to Luke right now, or anyone, for that matter. He just wanted to go back inside and keep drinking. He wasn't nearly drunk enough for this. "No, he went to go see his family. He'll be back Sunday."

"Oh! That's awful, he left you here alone? I thought you did, like, everything together."

Dan sent curses to everything that had led up to this situation right now. He didn't want to be reminded that yes, Phil had left him here alone, and no, he didn't feel cared about right now. "Yeah, he did."

"Oh... I'm sorry." Luke hesitated, and Dan had the feeling he was about to be asked a favor. "Do you want some company?"

Dan didn't react. He didn't even smile.

"I-I mean, it's probably sort of... you're alone in there and you're not usually so I thought... I mean, I'll just..." Luke muttered, turning pink in the face. He turned to leave, and Dan's insides withered in remorse. It didn't matter how annoyed he was or how much he wanted to be alone; letting an innocent person down was not on his to-do list.

Dan gritted his teeth. "No, come in for a bit. I'll get you some tea," he offered reluctantly. He immediately regretted this decision when Luke's face brightened delightedly. "I mean, I should be getting to bed soon, but we can have some of that bread."

"You can," Luke corrected as he stepped inside. "I'm allergic. But thank you so much! I hope it's not too much trouble..."

Dan mumbled incoherently under his breath and shut the door, sliding past the blonde to take the bread away from him.

He really didn't want to entertain Luke for more than an hour, and if Luke stayed, he wasn't sure how to politely get him to leave. He also really didn't want to converse with anyone who knew Phil right now, and especially not anyone who'd had sex with Phil in the past. It only served to remind him that Luke was superior to him in one more way (because he knew what it felt like to be with Phil, and Dan didn't), even if Phil wasn't interested.

What Dan didn't know was that he wasn't going to be the one entertaining tonight.


	22. Chapter 22

The memory of the lounge's current state, filthy with malteasers packages and spilled Pimm's and champagne, spurred Dan to rush up the stairs before his guest could get all the way to the top. "Uh, let me just clean up for a sec! Wasn't expecting anyone," Dan threw out as he stumbled by.

"Oh, I don't mind!" Luke assured him as he followed. "I mean, I came by unannounced, my fault..." His eyes widened as he entered the lounge, greeted by the sight of Dan hurriedly collecting empty candy bags and brushing the crumbs off the sofa, the walnut bread discarded on the coffee table.

"Here we go then, uh, you can sit there if you like..." Dan knew it probably stank, as he had been sitting on the couch the entire day without so much as a shower, and the smell of alcohol couldn't have done anything better. But he couldn't do much about it, really, so... might as well roll with it. He tried not to trip as he deposited all the rubbish on the kitchen counter, making a mental note to not be surprised about it in the morning. Most likely, his waking self would blame it on the booze. "Sorry about the mess," he apologized as he came back to sit on the opposite end of the couch.

"I don't mind," Luke repeated, a little more quietly. "Do you want some of that bread? My aunt- my grandma, I mean- heated it up for you before I left..."

Fine, I'll taste your fucking bread. "Uh, sure." Dan began to unwrap the cellophane that covered the dish, still struggling to process why Luke was here and what had actually brought him here in the first place. Surely he could have brought the bread by tomorrow, if it was so late and he thought Phil would still be here? Something else caught up with Dan's thoughts. Why'd his grandma- aunt?- heat it up? "Wait, she heated it up? Did you tell her you weren't going to eat it, or..."

"Oh, no, my aunt heated it before- I mean my grandma, just before I left, she thought I'd like to have some when I got home."

"Your grandma stays up late," Dan remarked as he got up to get a knife from the kitchen. "Couldn't you have heated it yourself?"

"Well, sure. She's just nice like that, though," Luke explained lamely. Dan sighed as he came back, still confused. Maybe their whole family just did things that didn't make sense. They're all mental.

He cut into the bread, making sure his piece would be generous so he didn't offend his guest.

"Oh, it's fairly rich... you probably don't need that big of a piece," Luke interjected quickly when he saw what Dan was doing.

Dan said nothing, but glanced up at him once and took a bite, just for the show of being extra polite. He tried to arrange his face into a pleased expression as he chewed. It tasted like... walnut bread, honestly. Not amazing, but not bad, either. Quite normal, he'd say.

"It's not that rich," he said after swallowing. "Er, I mean, it's not too rich. Just right." He took another bite, wanting to get this over with. "Mmm. Yeah. Really good. Thanks."

"You're welcome! Just, if you get full, you don't have to eat that whole thing," Luke told him, gesturing at the square in Dan's hand. Dan frowned. Do you want me to eat this bread or don't you? he thought nastily. He barely restrained himself from saying it aloud.

"No, it's really good, your grand- uh, aunt, is a good cook."

"Thank you, I'll tell her," Luke promised. He cast another glance around the lounge while Dan ate, his eyes landing on the couple of empty Pimm's bottles and the champagne.

Dan knew he was going to say something about it because his eyes darted around nervously, to Dan's face and to the floor and back to the bottles. Sure enough, the question came not twenty seconds later.

"Dan... I mean, I hate to ask, and if if it's too personal, you don't have to say, but I mean... are you alright?"

Dan closed his eyes. He knew this was coming. "Yeah... I mean, Phil and I have been stressed lately, you know, so..." He waved his hands in the vague direction of the alcohol. "I'm just de-stressing a little."

"Oh." Luke took a breath, seemed to think better of it, and let silence fall between them. Dan was pretty sure the blonde could tell that wasn't all that was wrong, but again, he didn't feel like explaining it. Too much effort, and probably a waste. Also too dangerous, because he didn't know anything about Dan and Phil's relationship...

"Well... would you mind if I de-stressed some, too?"

"Huh?" Dan swallowed his last bite of the bread and picked up the knife to cut another. "Well I mean, if you want a drink, I-"

"Save some for later," Luke cut across him.

Dan scowled at him, but put the knife down, in no mood to argue. "Fine. Do you want a drink, is that what you're asking?"

"Yeah! I mean, if you've got enough." Dan eyed him suspiciously. Luke looked down at his shoes. "I... I had a rough week, actually. And it sounds like you had one, so let's just... have a little party together, so we're not alone. What d'ya say?"

"Uh..." Dan hesitated. This really wasn't something a complete stranger should ask to do with someone they'd literally only met once. He'd rather be doing this with Phil- he really wasn't used to having other friends, even if they were just shaping up to be a drinking buddy. However, drowning away your sorrows while not having to be alone, laughing and drinking with someone- that seemed nice, right? He didn't have to tell Luke anything that was going on.

He took in Luke's sympathetic face, eyes alight with something other than sadness- mischief, maybe. They wouldn't drink too much, Dan knew, just enough to tell some stories, laugh, have some classic bloke-to-bloke bonding time. And Phil wouldn't know. Really, Phil deserved not to know, after not texting Dan when he was home. In fact, Phil was probably in bed, and Dan still hadn't heard from him. Dan made up his mind.

"Alright, let's do it. Let me get you a glass."


	23. Chapter 23

WARNING for a non-consensual situation (NOT rape, however) and unintentional drug use. What happened will be explained more in the next chapter.

London was dark, or as dark as it could be with all its lights and people bustling even through the dead of night, with only the occasional passing siren as opposed to the daytime steady rush of traffic below the window. The two boys in the Lester-Howell household, one who belonged and one who did not, broke the unusual quiet with their overly-obnoxious snorts of laughter as they drank away their stresses. Just as promised.

The lounge clock read 11:37 pm, and though Dan had originally resolved to throw his guest out over an hour ago, here they still sat. Both the boys had migrated to the same couch at some point, and were now even sharing the same couch cushion, showing each other memes from their phones and Dan's laptop. Dan, who had brought out the remaining alcohol (one more bottle of champagne, and a half-full bottle of vodka he'd had in his room since God knew when), was having a better time than he thought, though he'd lost track of how long they'd been sitting here drinking and sort of still wished Luke would leave. It was at least better than he and Phil being so preoccupied lately.

Dan tried to keep his mind off of Phil, but it was impossible when he and Luke were scouring the internet for jokes and tumblr was filled with the faces of Phan. Not to mention, he kept seeing things Phil would have liked, and kept stupidly pointing them out to Luke. The blonde didn't seem to mind; everything that Dan laughed at, Luke laughed at, too. It was, perhaps, nice to know someone else with their humor, even if it was rare, and perhaps a bit faked. He got the feeling Luke didn't think it was all funny, but Dan appreciated the sentiment.

Dan did, however, feel his insides prickling uncomfortably now that he'd been drinking so much. Probably from all the alcohol, along with the malteasers and the one slice of walnut bread, all mixing together. Maybe Luke wasn't joking- maybe more than one piece of that bread really wastoo rich.

"Wait- lookit this'un." Dan had opened up tumblr on his laptop, pressing the keys messily and trying to reblog the first picture that showed up on his dash. His usual "articulate" accent had dissolved into a lot of slurred syllables since the vodka bottle. He burped quietly, frowning as he tried to focus on which button to press.

"Whoa there, mate." Luke reached over to pry the laptop from Dan's loose fingers, letting himself basically lay on Dan while pushing the macbook to the other side of the sofa. If this was abnormal or inappropriate behavior for people that had just met, Dan didn't care. "Don't want to do anything you regret! Don't want to blow chunks on your macbook, either. Are you feeling alright?"

"Uhm..." Dan let himself slouch further into the browsing position, now devoid of a laptop but still too lazy and drunk to get up. Now that he mentioned it, Dan did sort of feel weird. Not really like he was going to throw up, though. More just... tingly. The room spun, more than it normally did when he was drunk. Maybe. He wasn't sure. "Yeah... no?"

Luke sat back enough to look at Dan, still hovering over him a little. "Dan, what did you say you were upset about, again? Maybe I could help."

"Uh..." Dan wracked his brains, trying to find a suitable answer to Luke's question while also identifying why he felt so wrong inside all the sudden. Was that light and airy feeling fogging his brain from the alcohol? Was that a good feeling? Was it normal? If it wasn't, was he scared by it? He felt like he was wondering these things distantly, all of them a big question mark bouncing around in his reality. And he really shouldn't be bothered by that, right? Everything was fine.

He smiled in spite of himself. Why not roll with the emotions you're given, right? Even if you did have some worries. "Yeah. I'm good."

"Okay, but what were you upset about earlier?"

Luke was looking at him intensely, searching, calculating, and it made Dan's grin stretch wider. He couldn't say why. "Upset? Oh... I..." Right, he wasrather... angry? Sad? Yeah, one of those. Not that it mattered now though. It may have mattered in some distant galaxy, but not the one that Dan was floating in at this moment, feeling his tensed up limbs relax and melt into the couch cushions. He shrugged. "Yeah." Inside, his brain worked rapidly, trying to figure out what was abnormal.

"Dan, that doesn't answer my-" Luke ran a hand through his previously perfect hair, which was starting to deflate a little. "Why were you upset, though?"

"Oh..." Why again? It had something to do with love... with Phil... with... oh, yeah, Phil. He wasn't happy with Phil. And he missed him. "Oh, Phil." He blinked as the name came out of his mouth, tasting sharp and real on his tongue and reminding him: he was not supposed to let people know. Besides, he'd only just met Luke. "Not 'pose to talk 'bout it..."

"Phil? Come on, Dan... you can tell me. Are you and Phil like... together? Are you having troubles?" Luke said patiently, concerned, and something about the way he said it made the corners of Dan's mouth lift once more. Before he knew it, a weird bubbly sensation was forcing its way though his chest cavity and he was laughing again. Never-ending, mechanical giggling that quickly escalated into full blown clutching at his stomach, tears coming out of his eyes as he tried to contain himself. And the weird thing was- nothing about this was funny, was it? They were trying to have a serious conversation, weren't they? He couldn't even tell how long he'd been laughing for.

Dan felt the first traces of actual fear start to wheedle into his consciousness, and, alarmingly, the laughter continued from his mouth without his consent. What was happening to him? Was he having a mental breakdown? Would Luke know something was wrong? He couldn't think straight enough to figure it out. An urge to run away and hide in Phil's bedroom enveloped him, but a glance around the room told him everything was tilting too much and too fast for him to go anywhere on steady feet.

Dan felt himself blabbering; he felt himself saying things, and laughing more, and saying more things. He didn't know what he was saying. He couldn't pay any attention as all meaning started to slip from his grasp, swirling away from him and feeding into his floaty thoughts. One minute, he was slouching on the sofa, Luke bent over him; the next, Dan was trying to stand, getting light headed, and falling back onto the couch; and now, he was laughing, having somehow situated himself on Luke's lap.

"Whew... Sorry!" Dan stifled another giggle as he tried to remove himself from the blonde, only succeeding in tangling their legs and flipping himself over, landing Luke on top. He giggled again when Luke didn't move. "Phi... Luke..." he tried, not entirely sure what he wanted to get across. Luke's eyes swirled, rainbow colors blending in on each other. Dan couldn't keep track of where they were or if they were really moving. "Whoa."

He couldn't tell if Luke had just got up, he couldn't tell how long Luke had been on him. He remembered saying things. All he knew was his skin was hot and burning in weird places, like on his collar bone and his neck and his chin, and Luke was on the seat next to him. Dan's shirt was askew, the collar pulled almost all the way down to his shoulder. "Wotchu doing..." Dan slurred. For some strange reason, he wanted Luke to come back. Wait, did he want Luke to come back because he was actually Phil, not Luke? Yeah, that had to be right.

"Phil?" Dan called, only for Luke to slide his weight back on top of him. "Oh. You."

"Me," Luke confirmed. "You're alright with this?"

Dan smiled. Why wouldn't he be? He just had his friend sitting on top of him. He kind of wanted that burn sensation back on his skin. "Yeah."

Luke's eyes lit up. "Good. Just making sure."


	24. Chapter 24

Dan woke up feeling like he'd never been tired before in his life until this moment. His temples throbbed and his head swam before he even opened his eyes; his eyeballs felt like dead weights in their sockets, uncomfortable and heavy, and his mouth and lips were dry as he cracked them open to suck in a pitiful breath. His stomach churned immediately upon consciousness, but his whole body was so stiff that for a moment, he considered what would happen if he stayed in bed to be sick.

This wasn't any hangover. This was a monster.

After another beat of hesitation, and remembering that Phil wasn't here to take care of him, he decided to pay his future self a favor and run for the bathroom before he ruined the furniture. His surroundings tilted as he tumbled from the couch with a heavy whump, only barely registering his jeans and bare torso ensemble before he stumbled down the hallway. He almost didn't make it to the toilet before his body expelled the entire contents of his stomach.

The initial few moments of it were torture, but when his muscles quit contracting and he was able to breathe again, he felt admittedly better. A fleeting image of Shrek danced across his mind as he leaned his head on the cool porcelain- better out than in, I always say- and he would have smiled wanly if he didn't feel that even the slightest twitch might set him off again.

Once the turbulent nature of his insides had settled down, he stood gingerly, figuring it was probably best to think through the extreme fog and try to remember what happened last night. He supposed he'd simply drank until he passed out in the lounge, but it would be prudent to inspect the apartment first in case he'd done something he didn't remember. The fact that his shirt was already off was a red flag, though he wasn't sure how much damage he could do by himself. Unless he'd gone and seen one of the neighbors... but that was really un-Dan, even drunk. He'd definitely wanted to be alone.

Shielding light from his eyes with one hand and holding his temples with the other, Dan made his way to the lounge, only to be greeted with what looked to be a near-explosion of Pimm's and champagne bottles, along with wrappers and various garbage strewn across the floor. He closed his eyes and breathed a heavy sigh through his nose. Fantastic.

He'd clean up later. Right now, he just wanted a good shower, some coffee, and a few painkillers to ease his way into the waking world. The painkillers were easy enough (four, because this was a truly massive headache and it didn't hurt to be sure), so he opened up the medicine cabinet and got those first. But next... shower, or coffee? Probably... shower, he guessed. He felt nasty, he smelled, and it would probably wake him up more than stewing on the couch with a comfort beverage. But first, his communications device. A pat to his pocket told him it wasn't there.

He made his way back to the lounge and grappled around under the couch cushions for a little bit, expecting his iPhone to have fallen there from his pants pocket, and was almost shocked when his eyes traveled upward to find it on the coffee table, resting innocently as though he'd placed it there on purpose. Frowning to himself (because sure, it was nice that he'd remembered to put it somewhere he could find it, but it was weird), he grabbed it up and headed to the bathroom, pressing the home button on the way. A picture of himself pressing a kiss to Phil's cheek opened up as the lock screen, and Dan punched in his code with a pang.

First of all, it was half four in the afternoon (he cursed aloud at this while blindly taking a towel from their linen closet), but he had no missed calls, which was slightly reassuring. He had a few notifications, but the only one he cared about was the 2 new messages - Lion 3, and it was this that he opened.

Dan didn't get farther than pressing the notification with his thumb before he glanced up in into the bathroom mirror and froze. For a moment, he thought maybe he was hallucinating. He'd gone to sleep alone, and he was alone now; what he was seeing had to be a trick of the light, surely? His bare chest was littered with large, plum-colored marks, from his neck all the way down to his hipbones. Another heartbeat, and he realized they weren't just impossibly shaped shadows, and they weren't his imagination. They were real.

His phone dropped.

Thankfully, it didn't shatter as it clattered on the counter, but Dan couldn't have cared less as he stood in front of his reflection. He took in the delicate bruises, knowing full well that there was no other explanation and no Phil to blame them on (anyway, Phil hadn't given him a hickey besides that one time. He was too gentle). And, almost immediately, the memories came flooding back.

Luke.

Luke had been here. Luke had stopped by to drop off the walnut bread at an unreasonable time of night and they'd had a few drinks together. And he'd eaten that bread. And... and? The images his mind provided him with were fuzzy and dream-like; he distinctly remembered making out with Phil on the couch. Had that been a dream?

The evidence on his skin proved that the encounter had been real. And yet- where had Luke gone? Luke hadn't been in the living room, so that meant... He left?

Dan threw himself back through the door and down the hallway again in a violent search for his blond... well, not friend, certainly. His stomach knotted at the thought of what might have happened; all he remembered was a whirlwind of color and laughter. Yet, there was no evidence of Luke's presence at all: not in Phil's bedroom, not in Dan's, not in the game room, not in the kitchen, not in the lounge. He was nowhere, and he had left no trace.

Finally, Dan sat back down on the couch with his aching head in his hands, defeated, and remembered he still had a text from Phil. Reluctantly, he held his phone up and opened it a second time. It was from late last night.

 _Lion 3_

 _I'm sorry I didn't kiss you goodbye. I've been thinking about it all day. My phone died on the train and I forgot my charger at home, so I had to wait for my brother to give me his. Maybe we should have a special night when I get back? I miss you and love you. 3_

And the second message, from just past seven this morning:

 _Lion 3_

 _Call me when you get this. We should talk. I love you so much bear 3_

Following the message was a line of emojis: with hearts, people holding hands, and Dan's known favorite, the alien. The extra typed out heart "3" only served to make the testament sweeter, as it was something they'd typed to each other constantly when they first met.

If there had been anything left to throw up, Dan would have run to the toilet for the second time since he'd woken up. As it was, he fought not to dry heave as his stomach gave another sickening lurch.

Phil had left his charger here. Phil had texted Dan as soon as he could. Phil still cared, and was probably now worrying because Dan hadn't texted him or called him back for more than several hours. Phil had apologized, and he wanted to make it up to Dan, to boot. Phil was too sweet of a human being for this world, and of course, there was absolutely nothing to worry about, because, as everyone knew- as Dan had known all along- Dan and Phil were perfect for each other.

And Dan had cheated on him.


	25. Chapter 25

With shaking fingers, Dan read over Phil's message again, and again, and one more time, just for good measure, to make sure he didn't miss anything. He glanced around the living room, taking in the mess and trying to imagine something other than his stilted memories. What had happened? He would have never gone for another guy besides Phil in his entire life; Phil was all he had ever known.

And he remembered kissing Phil even though that was impossible. But as he thought harder and harder about it, he remembered Luke's rainbow eyes swirling, and a sense that he was floating, or flying, maybe. It was all too confusing for his abused mind to unravel yet. He gazed down at the couch, where he had Luke had inevitably-

Wait. Dan still had his jeans on. Which meant...

"Hold everything!" Dan exclaimed aloud, scrambling upward suddenly. Surely, if he'd done anything with Luke, he wouldn't have gotten straight back into his skinny jeans- he wouldn't have had the coordination. Maybe he didn't do anything with Luke, aside from what he already knew he'd done. And, even though he knew the kissing was still wrong- it made his heart clench just thinking about it- there was some relief in the idea that he might not have done anything. He still had Luke's number in his pocket from when he'd visited last, and if he could find the right pair of jeans and get a hold of him...

Dan sprinted to his room, ignoring his body's protests, and rooted around in his dirty laundry for only half a minute before he reaching his hand into the correct pocket, pulling on a shirt while he was at it. He brought out the scrap of paper triumphantly and didn't hesitate to dial the number there, already partway in a rage as the gravity of the situation sank in. Never mind what Dan had let happen- how on earth did Luke think this was okay? In any way? Luke had taken advantage of him, just as he had done to Phil years ago.

Luke was a dirty liar. And he was going to pay.

Dan glanced up just as he was about to press the dial button, eyes resting on the camera he had perpetually set up to film videos for danisnotonfire. Intuitively, he switched it on and pressed record, setting his phone to speaker as well. If Luke tried to lie his way out of this later- Dan would have proof.

The line rang once before Luke picked up.

"Hello?"

"Luke?" Dan demanded, the word falling out just as harsh as he meant it to.

"...Yes, may I ask who's speaking?" Luke squeaked, obviously already intimidated.

"It's Dan."

There was a beat of silence; Dan's hand curled into a fist.

Luke's voice was still nervous when he spoke again. "...Hi, Dan. So... how was your night?"

Dan scowled, his sympathies for the blonde gone completely. "Well, I wouldn't know," he said acidly. "I was hoping you could tell me."

Luke sighed to buy time, and his next words were full of tremors. "Well... judging by the recording I got of you... pretty good."

Dan's mouth fell open.

"You did think I was Phil, though, which is... it's more than I could even hope for, Dan. You have no idea how perfect it is."

"What are you talking about?" Dan's voice warbled; he was losing his confidence, sensing that he was diving into something farther over his head than he thought.

"See, Dan, we need to make a deal." Luke's words were big, but they were also strained and shaky, like he was forcing himself to say these things. Dan understood why he and Phil had trusted their blond friend so easily: no one would ever suspect him of malevolent intent. He was too timid. "We both have something the other wants. You have Phil. I have a nice little recording that could be proof of your relationship... ha, I didn't even think you were together when this first started. After I visited you, though... I don't know why no one's got proof yet." Luke chuckled, albeit still fearful, on the other end of the line. Dan remained frozen. "So, you have a couple of options. One, I let you keep Phil- I have means of detaining him long enough for your little love bites to heal."

Dan regained his voice at this, fury renewed. "What did you do to me? I swear to God, if-"

"Relax. You just let me give you some nice marks. That's it. So don't you go calling 'rape'." Dan didn't think it was possible to hate someone more than he did in this moment. "If you do, you'll see there's no evidence."

Dan tried to keep his temper in check and focus on the information. "Okay... what about... detaining?" He sat down and glanced at his camera nervously, truly thinking it through; if he kept this from Phil, he'd have to delete the proof of this conversation. Luke had the upper hand, but if Phil never found out this happened... the idea was attractive, for sure.

"I can hold him in Manchester for a bit. You might say I have a... business running in four cities, including Manchester. You might also say I dabble in a bit of... underground work. I might not be an editor, really. But don't quote me on that. I've been looking for a reason to get out of this job."

"You work with criminals?" Dan said blankly.

"Ah... well yes, sort of. You could say I control the transport of certain... substances..."

"Drugs?"

"To put it bluntly." Dan frowned at his carpet. He really hadn't expected something like this when he'd decided to call. Luke, a drug dealer? Someone who trafficked drugs, nonetheless? What on- "You might have noticed that you were a little bit more than drunk, too."

Dan remembered the confusion, the colors, the high, and suddenly it all made sense. He inhaled sharply. "It was the bread, wasn't it. What did you give me?"

"You know, weirdly enough, I'm not sure. I think it was mostly pot, maybe with a little bit of-"

"You're not sure?" Dan asked, incredulous. "You don't know what you gave me. I could have fucking died-"

"I trust my boys," Luke cut across him. "They whipped something up for me, free of charge. And it worked. Originally I was going to get you loose and ask you some questions. But when you thought I was Phil- oh, it was just too good not to take the opportunity."

"You drugged me," Dan accused, his voice lowering dangerously. "You took advant-"

"I already said. I didn't do anything to you. Just marked you up. Now- now would you please let me finish?"

It sounded like more of a request than a demand, but Dan paused anyway.

"Thank you. Now... as I was saying, I can detain Phil if you like. Maybe smuggle him a bag of something, just enough for him to be held up at the train station for a few days while they figure out if it's his or not. In exchange, you have a few more options. Paying me is one. Breaking up with Phil is another... then you'll never have to worry about outing yourselves or not, and you'll also let me have a go with Phil. Otherwise, you'll agree to let me sell the recording to my employer."

"Your... employer?"

"There are people who will pay to find out if the ideas they are obsessed with are real, Dan, and there are people who get money and recognition if they're the ones to tell it to everyone else. I signed up under one of them because ruining your career-" He paused. "Outing you to the world, making your lives difficult- it would be my compensation. Phil ruined me, Dan," Luke continued in a whisper. "He ruined me. And the money would be a plus."

A little red light flashed on the top of Dan's camera- low battery. Shit, shit, shit. "So, what if I just tell everyone the recording isn't me?"

"I think you'll find that very hard to prove, as the video-" Dan's stomach plummeted- "shows your face. It's very clearly you. I'm very proud of myself! And I'm not in it at all- you're calling me 'Phil' the whole time. I didn't even need to say a word. A few seconds is all the world needs to realize Phan is real."

Oh, shit. Dan shuddered at the humiliating image that sprang to his mind when he imagined what the video must be like. "What about Phil?" Dan twisted at the knee of his jeans anxiously. "I mean, he's going to know that wasn't him. How is that me 'getting to keep him'?"

"I'll admit to it all being a ploy, and I'll admit to drugging you. Of course, the public will be so obsessed with the video that you'll never get the true story out, and I'd say it wasn't true, anyway. Only Phil will know, and I'll retire a rich man."

"...Okay... and if I refuse?"

"Then Phil will see you when he comes home. And if he doesn't, you can count on me sending him that video by 'mistake', and it won't be a part where you say his name. He'll never know you thought I was him. You can say you were drunk, and you can say you were drugged... but it's just going to sound like an excuse. I'll deny it." Luke took on a higher tone as he mimicked his future self. " _Dan was upset, all I did was pop by to give you both some bread... how was I supposed to know he was going to pounce on me? Your relationship was crumbling before I came over... I didn't expect anything to happen. It just did_. And, you know, maybe I'll say I was the one taken advantage of."

Dan let out a shaky breath. The red light on the camera dimmed away, signaling the death of the battery, but Dan figured he had what he needed. "How long do I have to choose?"

"Two days. Phil's coming home then, right? So you have before he gets on the train before I can stop him. If not... The video will get out. So, good luck, Dan. Call me." Luke hung up, and Dan felt his insides withering.

He knew what he had to do. He had the means to do it, and he knew what was right. But he didn't want to; the fact remained that he had let Luke in, entertained him, and let him stay long enough for something to happen. None of this was good news, whichever option he chose. And if he told Phil the truth, well, Luke would still have the video... He couldn't win.

Slowly, Dan took his phone off speaker and pressed Phil's contact button. He wasn't even through one ring when Phil answered.

"Dan? Oh my God, Dan, I've been worried sick-"

"Phil, we can talk later, but I need you to come home. Like, now."


	26. Chapter 26

"Dan, what's wrong?"

Dan let out a ragged breath, tears pricking his eyes at the thought of what he'd done. _God, I miss him_. "I- just- are you alone?"

He could almost see Phil's eyebrows squinting up in an effort to understand what was going on. "No, I'm with my family-"

 _I can detain Phil if you like. Maybe smuggle him a bag of something._

 _I can hold him in Manchester for a bit. You might say I have a team of men in four cities._

The thought that someone might be watching Phil instantly took precedence above everything else.

"Phil, this is important. I need you to go somewhere private. Now. And not outside. Just... pull your blinds, or something."

Phil was silent for a moment, save some scuffling and muffled words, probably excusing himself from the rest of his family members; he hadn't questioned Dan's request, probably from the urgency in his tone. Dan realized he was in a cold sweat while he waited, tense, mind racing.

"Okay, I'm in my room."

"Can anyone see you?"

" _No_ , they can't. Now what's this about?" Phil sounded spooked, like he expected this to be a practical joke of Dan's but still believed him halfway. Dan didn't blame him.

"Okay... okay." Dan ran a hand through his fringe. "...Some things happened while you were gone, and I..." The confession halted on his tongue. _I can't_. "I need you to come home. Please. You're in danger. So am I, sort of. When's the next train you could take?"

"In danger from what?" Phil's breathing picked up. "Dan, I can't just leave, we're in the middle of making supper and I've only been here for a day and my mum's-"

"Phil, I think there could be someone watching your house." Phil's complaints fell silent. "Maybe more than one. I don't know."

"What?"

"Phil, you've got to believe me, I- they know what day you're supposed to leave, and I-" A prickling fear gripped Dan by the shoulders, tingling in his scalp unpleasantly at the thought of Phil being intercepted. And it was Dan's fault. "If you leave earlier, I don't think they'll be expecting that, so I think you can get home alight-" Dan's breathing morphed into gasping as he tried to fight off the impending panic attack that was sure to take hold if he wasn't assured of his boyfriend's safety soon. He was crushed between getting Phil home and wanting Phil to stay away so he could gather his thoughts, clean up... have a few less marks on him by the time Phil returned. What if Phil got home and didn't believe him? What if he explained himself and Phil hated him anyway?

" _Dan_ , calm down, _who's_ watching the house?" Phil's voice took on a motherly quality, only making Dan's guilt soar into the high heavens. "Dan, tell me what's going on. I'll come home, okay, just tell me what's happening. I'm packing a bag right now." The rustling that followed proved Phil to be telling the truth.

Dan covered his eyes. "It's Luke. I mean, it's not Luke, it's his men. We were wrong about him," Dan started, on the verge of sounding hysterical as he realized how _alone_ he was about to be.

When Phil got home, that wouldn't change- Phil would pack his bags and leave, probably, or demand that Dan do so. Either that, or they'd sleep in separate rooms, be awkward for forever until they could figure out how untangle their names from each other, separate the branding. This was the end. The end of Dan and Phil, the end of the Tour, the end of their youtube adventures together- the end of everything.

Dan only realized tears were rolling down his cheeks when his next words came out choked and tight. "Please don't hate me, Phil. Please. I let him in, but he drugged me, and I thought it was you-"

"Okay, Dan, okay. You don't have to tell me right now. Shh." Dan let Phil soothe him from the other end of the line, wishing he was here in the flesh so they could drown the world in a crushing hug instead of having this conversation. "I don't know what's happened, but no matter what, I don't hate you, okay? I'll never hate you. I love you. Okay, Bear?"

A little bit of the heavy cloud enveloping Dan lightened at these words. "Okay," Dan accepted, wiping at his cheeks, ashamed. "I love you too, I want you to know that. I love you more than anything. I- just- I messed up."

"You can tell me about it in a bit. The last train leaves in forty-five, so I'm going to go see if I can get a ticket, yeah?" Phil said quickly. Dan got the feeling that, even though Phil remained calm and reassuring, he was too panicked to digest what Dan had to say yet. "I'm coming."

Dan forced an exhale. At least that was one worry taken care of. "Please tell me when you're on the train. Please tell me when you've made it."

"I will, Bear. I've got to go now if I want to catch the train, okay? I'll be there in a few hours. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah," Dan sniffed, his free hand slowly uncoiling from his pant leg as some of his anxiety eased. "I love you. Please be safe."

"I love you too." Phil made some kind of screeching animal noise just as he hung up, most likely for Dan's benefit; Dan's mouth twitched briefly, almost a smile, before he collapsed on his bed.

Phil was coming home. Phil still loved him. Of _course_ Phil still loved him. And he still would, even when Dan told him everything. He still didn't know what to do about Luke, or about the video, or about any of this. But they would figure it out. Together.

At least, he hoped so.

Dan tilted his head to study the camera pointing at him from his desk. _Time to see the evidence_.

Only an hour later, Dan sat with his head in his hands, the revealing footage of Luke's phone call opened on his screen. Phil had texted him just a little bit ago ( _And I'm off! I'm coming home_ ) but his nerves still didn't calm.

He really, really wished Phil didn't have to see Dan's panicked expressions, or the far-away look when he considered keeping it all a secret, or his questions to Luke. The video made it look like he almost _hadn't_ picked the right thing to do, like he'd almost decided to keep it a secret after all. It made it occur to him that even if his boyfriend still loved him forever and always... that didn't mean Phil wouldn't decide that they'd be better off as friends.

Dan was still on the cusp of losing almost everything, even if Phil stayed with him in the apartment. He forced himself to consider that Phil might not want a boyfriend who couldn't be trusted, let alone one who got drunk instead of properly sorting out their problems. And he had to factor in the last month of being too busy for each other; their relationship was already strained. They'd put caution to the winds by getting together, and now they were paying the price. For all he knew, Phil was already considering breaking it off to "just friends" again.

Would Dan have welcomed Phil back into his arms if the roles had been reversed? Yes. Always.

But this was different, because Phil was perfect. Dan was not.

Eventually, Dan roused himself from his position at his desk, leaving the video up for later. He stepped into the lounge, eyes traveling over the mess of bottles and wrappers.

 _I need to clean up_ , he told himself, but he couldn't bring his feet to enter the lounge any further. He stared. His thoughts whirled. His head pounded. He told himself to get it together. He didn't.

Instead, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead, too aware to accidentally run into the glass door as he had done on so many other occasions. He eased it aside and glanced in the fridge out of habit, but found nothing that looked appetizing. His gaze fell to the coffee maker.

"I haven't had my coffee yet."

No one answered; nothing moved. The only familiar sound in the oddly quiet flat was the buzz of traffic from the windows, but even that was a bit muted. "Shit," he muttered, unnerved by the silence. He grabbed the coffee pot to start the brew and left he kitchen.

Head into the lounge, find the remote, turn on the telly, and plop himself onto the filthy sofa- Dan suddenly didn't give a fuck about anything. He wanted it to be normal, and it wasn't. So he was going to _make_ it normal before everything fell to shit.

He scrolled through he and Phil's Netflix suggestions, landing on Death Note and stopping; his already puffy, red eyes watered in spite of himself. He had fond memories of he and Phil watching this and comparing themselves to the characters, even before they'd been a real, honest-to-god couple. They'd seen a lot of things together over the years. It was going to be really, really hard not to be reminded of that later.

Dan tried not to let himself spiral, but still allowed a few minutes of tears to roll freely down his cheeks before he got up again to collect his coffee. He situated himself, and glanced at the clock; Phil still had another hour and a half to get home.

His eyes stayed blank as he started the anime, not comprehending anything he was seeing, wondering if, after all this time of being happy, his life was going to be worth it anymore.

"Dan? _Dan._ Oh my God..."

Dan was roused by the voice he'd wanted to hear since the moment Phil left for his parents', and he blinked awake, unaware that he'd probably been sleeping since the first episode he'd put on. His boyfriend's face was in close proximity, his big blue eyes wild, one finger up to Dan's pulse point.

Dan's immediate impulse was to lean up and snatch a kiss from the man he'd been missing for so long, and he swayed upward a tiny bit before he remembered that they weren't going to be together in a moment. He sat back against the couch cushions.

"Phil?"

"Oh my God, Dan! Have you been drugged? Are you awake? Can you hear me? Dan?"

"Oh my g- Phil, I'm awake, I'm fine, stop-" His words were cut off as Phil shook his shoulders.

"DAN!"

"I'm awake!" Dan yelled. Phil let go of his shoulders and took a step back, still looking slightly crazed.

"You haven't answered any of my texts, I've been worried sick-"

"Jesus, I only fell asleep! I'm okay." Dan's head started to throb again and he instantly regretted snapping when he saw the hurt on Phil's face.

"Dan," he said in a much softer voice. "What's going on? What's happened?"

Dan sat up fully from the couch, rubbing the back of his head and mussing up his almost surely curly hair. Ah, this was it. The moment he'd been dreading.

"Phil..." He attempted to swallow the lump that had already formed in his throat. It didn't leave. "When you were gone... I... well I..." He was unsure where to start. Drinking? Being upset about the failed text? Luke coming over? Or he could just show him the video... No, no, that was a bad idea. Maybe he should just-

Dan's thoughts trailed off as Phil sat gingerly next to him on the couch, close and warm and comforting. Stabilizing. "Take a breath. Just... tell me."

Dan gulped again and studied his trackies, reminding him of the last time he had confessed something to Phil... only, that had been a happy occasion. This couldn't be. "Phil, I just... I want to be honest with you. That's important to me." A deep breath, so he could have enough air for his next few words. "The last time we got into a mess, it was because we weren't honest with each other. I don't want to do that again."

Phil stayed silent, considering every word, as he always did when Dan talked.

"So, I'm going to tell you this and I... I understand if you want to... if you want to..." He gestured between himself and Phil, unable to make himself say the words. Phil's eyebrows furrowed, sadly, and he nodded, urging Dan to go on. "Okay... so, I know we've been busy lately, and we've both been stressed and under pressure. I know you didn't mean to, but when you didn't kiss me goodbye, I was upset, and I decided to drink a bit..."

Dan began telling the story trying to put as much detail as possible so he could be the truest to his word. He owed that much to Phil, at least. When he got to his experience when the walnut bread set in, he faltered.

"He... Luke drugged the walnut bread. He told me this morning."

Phil looked taken aback. "This morning-?"

"No, no, not like that, I mean over a phone call. It's not... I mean, well it's kind of like that but I... just, let me explain."

Phil quieted again, but his lips were pursed, the sad look mixing with other, unidentifiable things. Dan described his confusion when Luke straddled him on the couch, of thinking that he was making out with Phil in a dream. He recounted this morning's wake-up, the realization when he saw the marks (this made him cringe, but Phil said nothing). "And then I called him, and... here, come back to my room."

"What?"

"I recorded the conversation. I..." Dan's eyes shined with regret as he thought about what kind of insult it was to Phil's character. "I thought you might not believe me when I told you that I hadn't meant to do it. I was going to intimidate him but then he... hang on, just watch." He dragged Phil to his room, where the video was already up and ready, and pressed the play button. He looked away as the video started, unable to watch this one more time.

When it finished, cut off at Luke's suggestion that maybe he would claim to be taken advantage of. Dan stared at the screen; he could feel Phil looking at him, but he didn't want to meet his gaze just yet.

"My battery died, but he told me I had two days, which is when you were coming home, and to call him with the decision... I was so scared. So I-I called you, and that was when I told you to get out of the house, I was afraid he already had men there already, but Phil, I-I'm... sorry, and I- you don't have to forgive me, I know it was an awful thing to get drunk and-"

"Dan!" Dan's head flicked up immediately, and he was looking into his boyfriend's eyes before he could think twice. Phil was- was he crying?

And all of the sudden, Phil was wrapping him up in a huge hug, and it was so unexpected that Dan's composure snapped. His shoulders shook as he bowed his head into Phil's chest, tallness be damned, and tried in vain to keep it all in. There had been too many tears today.

"Dan," Phil murmured, muffled in Dan's hair. "Dan, I love you. None of this was your fault, okay? I want you to understand that. None of it. I love you."

Dan gripped Phil's torso, in wonder that he was still allowed to hold him, in awe that he was being held. "But-"

"No. No buts. I'm glad you told me so we can sort this out. It's my fault you were sad. I wasn't talking to you enough either, and I haven't paid you enough attention. And Luke..." Dan felt Phil swallow on the side of his head. "We're going to call the police about Luke."

"What?" Dan drew back to see Phil's face set in murderous looking frown, gritting his teeth, his eyes dark. "But- but he's your friend and he said- he said he wanted to get out of the-the drugs-"

"Well, I suppose he will now, won't he?" Phil took a strong hold of Dan's hand and looked him in the eyes, fiercely. "Dan, I will never, ever stop loving you. I want you to understand that. I will. Never. Stop." And with that, he dragged Dan off to the living room so they could find a cellphone.

Luke was getting what he deserved.


	27. Chapter 27

As it turned out, Luke was bluffing about nearly everything he'd said.

He was not, in fact, a powerful drug dealer with henchmen in any cities, let alone four. Rather, he was a struggling businessman (he wasn't lying about being an editor) with an addiction he couldn't quell. The investigation that followed Phil's initial call to the police was a short one, revealing rather quickly that Luke was in no place to bargain; he'd borrowed a bit too much from his dealers, it seemed, and several were after him for the money he owed. Recently, he'd met someone who would negate his debts if he showed them proof of Dan and Phil's relationship (who that was, Dan didn't want to know), and Luke had thrown all his effort into the task in a last ditch attempt at clearing his name. Obviously, it hadn't worked, and Luke was scheduled for court in a few months.

Meanwhile, life didn't put on the brakes for Dan and Phil's problems. In fact, it seemed to speed up after Luke's demise, hurtling along faster than a speed train as they made more videos, prepared their upcoming tour, and scheduled more events than Dan ever thought he could have handled. Plus, there was the coming out Dan had to do with his parents ("You know... I was really wondering about that," Dan's mum commented when he told her), and the visit to Phil's family in Manchester to tell them, as well. Of course, Phil's mum was more delighted than anyone, and she insisted to Dan's chagrin that they go out for dinner in celebration. Even through his embarrassment, Dan marveled over the fact that he was a part of the Lester family now, loved and warm and welcome at any time.

It was a lot to take in, a lot to accomplish. It was stressful, it was time-consuming, and it wasn't easy. But with Phil by his side? They could conquer anything they wanted.

It wasn't until after Phil had called the police ("I'm calling to report that someone's assaulted my boyfriend. And he's threatening us," Phil had stated with authority, and Dan had stayed clinging to Phil's waist, listening with relief while Phil gave them the required information), that Dan started to feel oddly free, and that feeling had stayed with him in the few weeks since. He had Phil. Phil wasn't going to leave him. And they were unstoppable.

Despite it all being over, Dan couldn't help but feel like they could take the honesty of their relationship one more step: coming out to the public. He brought the idea to Phil one night after he'd been mulling it over.

"Phil?" Dan stood in the door way of his boyfriend's bedroom, lingering and not really wanting to interrupt. Phil was hunched over his desk, squinting through his glasses at his computer screen and editing his most recent video footage.

Phil straightened up when he heard Dan's voice, the corners of his mouth instantly turning upward. "Yes, love?"

Dan never would get used to that; never in his life had he thought someone would always be happy to see him. He blushed, nervous. "Could I talk to you about something? After you're done editing?"

Phil ripped his eyes away from the computer screen to regard Dan fully. "Is everything alright?"

Dan tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Oh yeah, yeah, everything's fine. It's just sort of important, that's all. I mean, like, happy important, but um... still important."

Somewhat to Dan's surprise, Phil swiveled his chair away from his desk, angling his body so he was paying attention to Dan, and only Dan. Phil usually never let himself be distracted from his work. "We can talk now, if it's important."

"You're editing, though, I don't want to intrude-"

Phil ignored him. "Would you like to sit down?" he offered, gesturing to the bed.

Dan rolled his eyes and entered, plopping himself onto the blue and green duvet and hearing the wicker bed frame creak from his weight. The bed that started it all, he mused. "I was thinking of, like, how we shouldn't keep secrets. How important that is."

Phil's brow furrowed thoughtfully, his glasses making him look intelligent and philosophical, like a professor considering a thesis. Dan tried not to let his thoughts wander from the task at hand. "Do you... have something else you want to tell me?"

Whoops. That wasn't where Dan wanted to go with this. "No! No, that's not it at all," he assured his roommate. Phil's features cleared. "I'm thinking about, like, us. How we're... not out yet."

"...Oh? But... My parents know, and we talked to your mum. And PJ knows, and... Louise has got to-"

"Yeah, I told her," Dan said offhandedly. "But you know what I mean."

"Like... everyone?"

Dan blinked and looked down at his fingers, which he was fiddling with in his lap. "I meant our subscribers, but I guess... yeah, everyone. The Internet. Whatever."

Phil contemplated this for a short moment before he stood from his chair, took a step toward Dan, and swopped down to peck his boyfriend on the lips. Dan looked up, surprised. "We could try running it by a few people and see what happens."

"Really?" Dan breathed, suddenly feeling a bit more anxious. He hadn't expected Phil to agree so easily. "What people?"

"Like... I dunno... our producer?" Phil sat down on the bed and leaned against Dan. "I mean, we can't just make a video all the sudden. We're connected to a lot of people."

"Right. So... yeah, we could run it by him and see what he thinks? I mean, lots of people have come out on youtube before..." And those people always got hate. We're going to get hate. Strangely, the image about which he had the most reservation was the hate that might be directed at Phil, not himself. Phil didn't deserve hate of any kind. Phil only ever tried to make people happy. "God, I don't know, now that I'm thinking about it. Should we?"

"Yeah," Phil said without hesitation. "I think you're right, I think it's important not to hide things. Talking with our producer can't hurt."

As it turned out, talking to their producer did hurt a bit. The producer wasn't shocked- Dan didn't think it was possible for anyone to be shocked, at this point- but he didn't like the idea of a public relationship between them at all.

"Look," he told them in his office when they'd met with him a few days later. "There's all sorts of legal issues, first of all. Every company that's ever endorsed you, ever label, anyone you've been affiliated with- they'll have to speak out about what they think. And not everyone's for equality. We could end up losing some major support, money, popularity- possibly long term."

"But obviously we aren't going to break up just for the sake of our public image," Phil scoffed. "So what are we supposed to do?"

"All I'm asking is that you wait. You're getting more recognition all the time, and there's a lot of people who think you're together, anyway," their producer responded, running his fingers through his hair. "Besides, I've had quite a bit of fun marketing that you're in a closeted relationship, having you flirt, things like that to tease the fans. We could plan the reveal a bit, skew it into as positive a light as possible. Just... not for a while yet, okay?"

The boys had nodded, Phil with pursed lips, Dan feeling like he'd resurfaced from a long time underwater. They didn't have to deal with it yet, and that was more of a relief than anything.

So, they went home, focused on their work, kept dealing with keeping secrets. They still had to watch out for cameras and phones documenting their lives when they were walking on the street, they still had to keep the suggestive comments tuned down on the radio show, they still had to remember not to touch each other too much when they were filming. But that was how it had always been. Besides, they had a plan now, and that was better than nothing.

And when they did come out, they could deal with the hate. They could still stand strong when important condemned their actions, or if their popularity dropped, or if they stopped getting enough funding to keep everything afloat. They would always have each other, and they would always have people who supported them. There would still be a ginormous amount of people that had been cheered by AmazingPhil and danisnotonfire, and warmed by their stories. They'd had an effect on people's lives, and really, that was all Dan had ever wanted.

Life was only looking up for Dan and Phil, and honestly, no matter what happened, they couldn't have been happier.


	28. Chapter 28

_a few weeks later_

"Can't we just... take a break? For a couple days, or something?"

Dan, who had been looking over Phil's editing job on their soon-to-be-uploaded "day in the life" video from Japan, leaned back from his hunched position over their office computer, regarding his boyfriend with surprise. Phil was leaning in the doorway, looking completely at ease in his track pants and a light blue t-shirt. His eyes were sparkling with mischief, something Dan hadn't seen much of lately. What with their busy schedules and hefty workload, along with their big trip overseas, they hadn't taken a lot of time to do anything other than be serious.

"We _did_ just take a break, Phil. I thought that's what the holiday in Japan was for?"

"I know, but... We haven't stopped working since then. Japan was amazing, but we haven't had any time to ourselves. We were all just go-go-go, with no rest. Don't tell me the trip didn't wipe you out."

Dan turned himself away from the computer to face Phil completely, prepared for a full conversation about this. "Phil, we're almost done, though. I'm almost through looking at this one, and then we can upload it,and then we've just got to film the Japan haul, and then we'll be done for a few days-"

"Listen to you, 'and then, and then', it doesn't ever end! You _know_ we won't be done! We're never done. Once Japan things are over with, it's _really_ back to the real world! Back to filming. Back to the book."

Dan sighed and rubbed his eyes, leaning a little on his chair. It was only half past nine, and already he was wishing he were in bed instead of stuck in front of the computer. "And then the seven second challenge app," he mused.

"Exactly! No time."

Dan studied his boyfriend, trying to figure out what was up. It was always Phil who was pushing that they get extra work done, that they not take as many breaks as normal, that they do their work to the best of their ability, and it was always Dan who was trying to procrastinate. What was Phil up to? "Why are you trying to get me to stop working?" Dan grinned at the spectacular pout Phil was sporting from the doorway. "Do you want me to do something, is that it?"

Phil screwed up his eyes in deliberation, only a second passing before he let out a breath. "Okay, okay, I'm really _really_ in a Ghibli mood and I need someone to watch with? And then we can go to bed. Please, Dan? Please?"

Dan laughed, feeling the tension he'd been holding since they'd been back in London ease out of his shoulders. Phil was just in one of his rare moods when he wouldn't rather do anything but cuddle in the lounge, and Dan wasn't one to deny him that. He didn't miss the "we" in Phil's proposition, though; did Phil mean he wanted to sleep in the same bed tonight? In truth, they'd been too stressed to do any sort of coupley things besides quick kisses here and there for the last few weeks, especially since the _incident_. Dan hadn't really wanted to show off the slow-fading hickeys any more than he had to, and since sleeping meant taking off his shirt, he'd confined himself to his own room. It was a mutual understanding between them that Dan would come back when he was ready, and Phil, graciously, hadn't pushed it.

But the hickeys were long gone now, and Dan didn't see any reason not to take a night off. So what if they really _should_ be uploading tonight or tomorrow? They'd been late before, and the fans would understand. Lately all they'd been seeing on Twitter and Tumblr were messages about how they really deserved this holiday. They needed some nights to themselves. "Alright, alright. It's not like you have to force me not to do work."

"Yes!" Phil cheered, launching inside the office to pull Dan up by his arms. "I'll make popcorn," he promised as he led his roommate down the stairs and into the lounge. "You sit."

Phil ran out of the room, presumably to the kitchen to prepare their snack, while Dan obliged and snuggled comfortably into the the sofa cushions. Seeing that his roommate had taken it upon himself to set out their Ghibli collection on the coffee table already, Dan perused the choices, settling on either Howell's Moving Castle or Totoro. He'd let Phil choose when he got back.

A couple of minutes later, Phil plopped down to join Dan on the sofa with a bowl of fresh popcorn. "I've narrowed it down to these." Dan handed Phil the two choices. "I thought you could make the final decision."

"Hmm." Phil scratched his chin in an almost comical way. "How about Howl's? I'm kind of feeling it. We haven't watched it in ages."

"Yeah, true," Dan agreed easily. He plucked the box from Phil's grasp and got up to put it in the DVD player. "Plus, we've seen Totoro, like, a million times."

"A gajillion," Phil concurred. "Not that I ever get tired of it, though."

"Me either." Dan pushed play before sitting down again, allowing himself to lean on his boyfriend a little. He'd missed the contact lately, what with their emotional life being pushed aside by more pressing matters. Phil reached a hand out, brushing Dan's leg; Dan took it reflexively and laced their fingers together as the movie started, feeling warm.

The movie progressed, and Dan felt himself relaxing, even with impending responsibilities hanging over their heads. They could wait a day or two, he told himself. As usual when they watched movies, Dan commented loudly about the inaccuracies of the movie, while Phil complained that they should take it at face value ("How the _hell_ is that scarecrow even standing up? Does that not freak her out at all?" "It's _magic_ , Dan! She already got cursed by some lady, of course she's not freaked out."). They threw some popcorn on each other and Phil tried to catch it in his mouth ("You missed again, you spork!"), and by the end of the movie, they were both fairly giggly and having a good time. It was the best Dan had felt in quite a while, especially since they'd met Luke.

At the end of the movie, when Howl and Sophie sailed into the sky with the promise of a life together, Dan was suddenly unsure of what to say. His thoughts turned back tot heir conversation earlier, and what that might mean they should be doing now. Phil had said something about _we_ could go to bed after, but did he really mean that? Did he mean _we_ as in together, or _we_ separately? Dan didn't know, and if he had to guess, he was overthinking it a little too much.

His anxieties were quelled when Phil squeezed his hand. "What do you say we go to bed? Any, um..." Phil cleared his throat. "Any chance you'd want some company?"

Dan smiled, his cheeks tinting down toward his jawline, a telltale sign of his emotion on the subject. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Phil stood, gently prying Dan from the sofa and leading them to Dan's bedroom by their linked hands. "I'll go get changed," Phil said quietly. Dan knew the excuse was only to give him a bit of time to get undressed and under the covers before Phil came back, to avoid any potential discomfort on Dan's part, and for that he was grateful. Phil was certainly the most thoughtful person he had ever known, polite almost to a fault, and Dan loved him for it.

The younger plugged his phone in by his bedside table, then stripped his shirt and trousers off leisurely while his boyfriend was gone, already feeling the pull of sleep nagging at him from the edges of his consciousness. He hadn't been sleeping well without Phil, inescapable thoughts of the dark and the promise of death and evil spirits prowling his bedside keeping him awake into the wee hours of the morning, and it was starting to wear on him as it constantly had in the years before he'd even known Phil. As he'd done for a few weeks now, he plugged in the string of white christmas lights that lined his headboard, and climbed into bed. Already they started to calm him the moment they were on, as they usually did, dispelling the darkness before it had a chance to sneak into the room and grab a hold of Dan's tired mind.

Phil came back, as promised, in a light-colored pair of pajama pants and no shirt, and whistled lowly as he turned out the light. "Since when did you get these? They're amazing!" he exclaimed, referring to the twinkling lights above Dan's blanketed form.

"I've had them for like, forever, you're just not observant," Dan huffed. He scooted over and held the blankets open for his boyfriend, who climbed in without further ado.

"Do you not usually turn them on?" Phil rustled around a bit until he finally found a comfortable position, facing Dan with a loving expression on his face. Both their features glowed in the soft illumination.

"I do every once in a while, when... um... yeah." Dan didn't really want to talk about his fears, the things that seemed very silly in the morning light, especially when explaining them to someone else.

They stared into each other's eyes for a few breaths. "Hey, Dan?"

"Mmm?"

"Can I ask you about something?" Phil his arm a little until he found Dan's hand, taking a hold of it again. Dan nodded. "Well, I've heard you pacing again at night. Or, in the morning, I guess." Heat surged to Dan's face. "And I... was wondering if everything was alright."

"Oh, um..." Dan lowered his eyes. "I mean... yeah. It's, you know... 'existential crisis' stuff." He chuckled a little at the use of his own term, not really letting it reach his voice. Phil stayed quiet for a few more breaths, and Dan knew he wanted more of an explanation. "Um... I just get scared at night sometimes, that's all. Of... not doing enough in life, or... having none of it mean anything, even though we've worked so hard..." He swallowed, and Phil squeezed his hand. Dan looked back up into his boyfriend's eyes again to see only love and comfort there. "And then I get scared of everything. Of the dark, and of demons, and... stupid stuff."

"It's not stupid," Phil whispered. When Dan only bit his lip in response, Phil held up the covers. "Come here, love."

Not at all opposed, Dan shifted further over so that his head was under Phil's, snugly in Phil's chest. Phil hummed above him, and Dan let himself close his eyes at the deep vibrations of the voice he loved the most.

"You're safe," Phil murmured, wrapping his arms around the younger man and holding him closely. It didn't take Dan long before he was asleep.

Dan awoke blearily to the sound of their doorbell ringing, but something was different than normal- he was unexpectedly warm and comfortable, a far cry from all the stressed mornings he'd had lately. A smile spread across his face as he realized that Phil was spooning him, and they'd slept in the same bed again.

He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with Phil all morning, he couldn't just leave the postman waiting. So, he did the only logical thing, since it was in his power today.

"Phil." Dan reached behind him and prodded Phil in the side. Phil grunted. "Phiiiiiil, the post is here."

There was a moment of silence before Dan lifted Phil's arm and turned over, kissing him on the lips softly. Phil's eyes fluttered open sleepily, squinting. "Noooooo," he murmured, though he was smiling.

"Please?" Dan tried, knowing that Phil would do pretty much anything if he was bothered enough.

Phil blinked blearily, putting a hand up to run through Dan's messy fringe and bringing the other around his shoulders. "Maybe if I get another kiss."

Dan rolled his eyes, but kissed Phil again anyway, letting his eyes fall closed. Phil's grip on his shoulders tightened slightly, and he deepened the kiss, rolling the both of them a little so that Dan was pressed into the bedsheets while Phil hovered over him, never breaking contact.

The doorbell rang again, and Phil detached himself. "Ha... whoops," he said breathlessly, clamoring off Dan with not much finesse. Dan, too stunned to move, only laughed when Phil tripped over a bit of blanket and nearly went sprawling on the floor. A minute or so later, when Dan had caught his breath, Phil came stumbling back into Dan's room, still apparently struggling with coordination.

"That was horrible!" he complained, flopping back onto the bed again. "I slept in my contacts and my eyes are like dry sacks of sand, I can't see anything! And I forgot I had no shirt!"

"Oh my _God_ , Phil, you answered the door in no shirt?" Dan had a good laugh until Phil's pout won him over. "You poor thing," he said, still trying not to chuckle. "I would have told you to go take them out if I'd have remembered, sorry. You should probably go do that now."

"But I wanted to continue what we started," Phil whined, climbing back over his boyfriend. The sentiment was ruined when he blinked furiously and rubbed at his eyes, causing Dan to burst into giggles again.

"Sorry, mate, but I think you're gonna have to get in glasses first."

"Ugh, fine," Phil said, getting off the bed again. "But only because my eyes are going to _actually_ set fire if I don't do something."

"Are the actually?" Dan teased, sitting up as Phil left the room. "That's quite a problem. You look sexy in glasses anyway!" he called down the hallway.

"Yeah I do," Phil called back from the bathroom. "You'd better watch out!"

Dan shook his head at this, grinning, and decided that he should do something for Phil in return for getting the post. He let Phil crawl back into bed first, this time with a pair of glasses and slightly red eyes; then Dan gave him a peck on the lips and told him to wait here. Phil protested as his boyfriend got out of bed, but Dan assured him that he'd be right back, and the older fell silent.

Dan padded over to the next room first, rifling through Phil's drawers and finding the yellow Adventure Time hoodie and sliding it on, spotting Phil's phone charging in the corner and slipping that in the pocket, too. He let the sleeves fall down over his hands and made his way down to the kitchen, where he could brew some coffee for them both. It wouldn't be much of a surprise, since they made coffee for each other lots of mornings, but maybe the added feature that he'd brought it to Phil in bed would at least make things special.

Once he'd brewed their coffee and made sure to make Phil's up the way he liked, Dan was off up the stairs again and back to his room. Phil sat up a little to lean on the headboard as he spotted his boyfriend.

"Aww, Dan! You didn't have to," Phil protested as he saw the mugs in Dan's hands, but Dan shushed him quickly as he sat back down.

"But I did, and here it is, so shut up. I wanted to."

Phil wrapped his hands around his mug happily. "Well, thank you."

"Here, I brought you your phone, too. So we don't have to get out of bed."

"You're too good to me," Phil said as he took the device from Dan's hand.

"That's not _even_ true, I got landed with some pure sunshine of a person. And here I am, bringing him coffee one morning."

"I'm not complaining. You can definitely bring me coffee whenever you want to."

Dan reached over to give his boyfriend a light smack, eliciting a weak "ow!", and lifted the covers to get comfortable again and set to scrolling.

The two of them scrolled for a long time, checking through all their social media and showing each other various memes (and copious animal videos on Phil's part), before they decided they'd better actually get out of bed before the whole day wasted away. Plus, Phil could hear Dan's stomach growling, and he insisted that he'd make eggs for the two of them. They left Dan's room reluctantly, still shoulder to shoulder as they descended to the kitchen.

"Breakfast, breakfaaaast," Phil sang tunelessly, getting a pan and spatula out. Dan leaned on the counter and watched, letting himself admire the way his boyfriend's bare torso looked as he worked, Phil's slight frame and light muscles very appealing in the early morning light. He definitely appreciated the fact that Phil hadn't bothered with a shirt this morning. The image of Phil's lips on his in the kitchen a few weeks ago surfaced in Dan's mind, and he licked his lips subconsciously.

"Hey, Phil. You know what I just thought of?"

"Hmm?" Phil responded, not really taking his attention from the eggs.

"That one time, when, um, you know." Now that he was here, Dan wasn't sure if this would be awkward to say or not; after all, the incident had fallen quite short of romantic, as Phil had been angry at the time and Dan had been scared shitless. But he'd already spoken, and now he had to say it. He gulped. "You know, when you kinda... kissed me on the door."

Phil raised his eyebrows with interest and put his spatula down, turning to look at Dan. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just... thinking."

"Hmm." Phil seemed to deliberate, then took a few purposeful strides to where Dan was standing, taking hold of him by the sides and pushing him lightly so that he was once again with his back to the glass door of their kitchen. He searched Dan's face for a good moment for any resignations; Dan was wide eyed, but definitely obliging. "Like this?" Phil asked, a glint coming to his eye, and before Dan knew what had happened, they were kissing again- fiercely. Phil's tongue roamed his mouth after a minute or so, his grip tight on Dan's waist, and Dan gave in with a moan he didn't mean to let slip.

A sharp burning scent jerked them out of their moment, making them look toward the stove- "The eggs!" they both exclaimed at the same time- and then Phil was letting go of Dan with a little "Ah!" and scrambling to remove the pan from the burner before there was a fire. Dan began to howl with laughter- and after the eggs were no longer in danger, Phil started to laugh, too.

"Jesus- on- a mother-fucking- _boat_ ," Dan wheezed, nearly in tears from mirth. "I cannot believe- that is actually a thing that's just happened. We're _that_ couple."

Phil put his hands over his face. "I know. Oh my God- Should I just- throw them out, or-"

"I don't mind them burnt." Dan wiped his eyes, beginning to sober up. "Oh my God. No, it's okay Phil, really."

"I mean. I'd do it again," Phil said with a knowing smirk.

Dan only turned red again as they dished up their burnt eggs and took them to the lounge to eat.

It was time for a day in- not just any day in, either. The Lester-Howell household was unusually peaceful and somewhat quiet, and Dan was almost radiating with happiness; he felt like Phil's sunbeams had infected every part of him and were now spreading outward, unable to be contained. Phil certainly acted like this were true; every time Dan smiled, Phil's eyes lit up, like his whole world was in summertime just from seeing Dan's face. It made Dan blush every time it happened, and he'd quickly peck Phil's cheek, or Phil would press a gentle kiss to Dan's temple, and they'd go back to browsing. They held hands as the hours passed, making sure that Dan was holding Phil's left and Phil was holding Dan's right so they'd both have their good hands for scrolling. Lunch was a couple of quickly put together sandwiches, and then it was back to the internet, like always. It was a day in that they needed, and it proved to be well worth the time.

Sometime in the afternoon, when the sun had already gone down and left them both still in hoodies and boxers, Dan heard his stomach give a rumble. Phil quirked an eyebrow.

"Hungry?"

Dan fiddled with his sleeves sheepishly. "I guess, yeah."

"Chinese takeout?"

Dan reached over and planted a kiss on Phil's cheek. "You say all the right things," he said, fluttering his eyelashes and over-exaggerating the sweetness in his tone.

Phil made a face and gave Dan a playful shove. "Ew. You're such a sap."

"It was ironic."

"Suuuuure it was. Is it bad that I have their number saved?"

"Maybe. I have it saved, too."

Once the takeout was ordered and they were promised a twenty to thirty minute wait, Dan poked Phil in the ribs. "Phiiiiiil."

"Oh my God. Yes?"

"We're out of ribena. And I'm not dressed."

Phil tore his eyes from his computer screen. "And you want _me_ to be the one to get dressed?"

Dan pulled a pout with puppy eyes, knowing that it was his turn to do something, yet selfishly not wanting to get up.

"After you made me get the mail, _and_ I made you eggs?"

"You burnt them," Dan pointed out.

"It was your fault, though."

"Okay, maybe. But I still don't want to get up. Please?"

Phil heaved a sigh, and Dan knew he'd won. He broke into a grin as Phil moved his Macbook aside and stood up. "Fine. But only because you made me coffee."

Phil didn't took longer at Tesco than Dan assumed he would, and he was beginning to stress when the takeout arrived before his boyfriend. But he needn't have worried. He heard the door open almost half an hour later, followed by Phil's heavy steps on the stairs.

"Jesus, Phil, did you get lost? I thought you were just getting ribena?"

Dan turned from his laptop- and his heart melted, as it always did. Standing in the entrance to the lounge was Phil, slightly disheveled and still in a sweatshirt and track pants from his day indoors, holding a vase of red and purple flowers. He positively beamed at Dan's besmitten expression.

Dan felt his face burn from the bottom of his jaw to the top of his forehead. "Ph-Phil!" he spluttered.

This wasn't the first time Phil had done this, or things similar; it just hadn't been lately, and Dan wasn't expecting it.

"Bear," Phil said deeply, sweeping down to hand Dan the flowers with a flourish. Dan nearly buried himself inside his hoodie, nearly hiding his face in them as he gave them a swift sniff.

"You definitely did not have to! And you were just saying how you had to do everything today- Phil! I only gave you coffee!"

"So?" Phil unbagged his other items, a couple of bottles of ribena, and set them on the coffee table. "It's not like I need an excuse to give you something nice. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, since 2009."

"Same to you," Dan murmured, for once at a loss for what to say. He set the flowers on the table, next to the ribena, and sat back. "I love you. Come here and kiss me, you spork."

Happily, Phil sat down next to his blushing boyfriend, obviously all too proud to have surprised him so. He reached over Dan and pressed a kiss to his lips, and Dan felt the same fervor from earlier this morning come bubbling to the surface. Phil had one hand clutching Dan's waist, one hand under his head, and Dan moved his own hands so that he could tug at the soft blackness of Phil's hair. Phil's tongue barely touched Dan's lips, and Dan was all too willing to let it in further, to allow Phil to explore the rest of his mouth. He let out a subconscious, somewhat high-pitched noise of approval, and Phil broke away immediately.

"Um, sorry," Phil said, and Dan would have been surprised that Phil was panting if he hadn't been out of breath himself. "Too much?"

"Uh, no?" Dan growled indignantly, and he pulled Phil back in for the embrace that he craved to continue. He'd been denied another session twice now, once when the postman came and once in the kitchen before the eggs burned, and he'd be damned if he'd give it up now.

Dan did some venturing of his own, finally letting himself feel with abandon, unafraid of what Phil would think. He didn't have to be afraid of anything, he reminded himself. Phil loved him, and that was enough.

The kiss was slow and sensuous, gradually gathering heat as Dan was pressed into the sofa cushions. Neither of them were hurried, and there was no reason to be; both of them were content in the mutual, silent understanding that they'd be together as long as they were alive. There was no reassurance needed, no demands made with each brush of fingers, no rush in each movement. It was simply an act of sharing between two individuals: _we are loving, we are living, we are here for each other._ In truth, Dan thought that none of this was even necessary; they didn't need to be together to know that they loved each other in some way, as Dan had always known. But expressing it was some other ecstasy entirely.

As the minutes drew by, the two become only more entwined, legs tangled together and arms wrapped around each other, each feeling the other with a steadily increasing desperation.

After some amount of time that Dan couldn't even begin to process, Phil drew up slightly, breathing harshly into Dan's face. Dan couldn't have cared less; he was doing the same. "Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?"

The question got stuck in Dan's senses, getting lost in all the wonders he'd just been experiencing, and he didn't answer for a moment as he worked out what Phil was trying to say.

"D'you mean-"

"Um. Um, sorry," Phil stuttered, pulling off even more. Dan frowned in discontent. "Too fast? Too much? You don't have to-"

"Yes," Dan decided. He couldn't imagine a time of being more ready, not when he was already here, looking into Phil's eyes. Except- "Can we not, um... like, do the _whole_ thing, just yet?"

Phil giggled a little at Dan's wording; Dan was always the one who was crass, flinging about dirty words like spare change, and the fact that he was being conservative about his choice now was definitely unusual. Dan closed his eyes, smiling too; sudden nerves about their situation made him unable to look at his boyfriend, all the sudden.

"Of course, love," Phil said, huskily. His low tone sent a jolt to Dan's stomach, not unpleasantly. "We don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. Are you sure you want to... continue?"

Dan cracked on eye open, an instant calm setting about him when he saw Phil's face, as it always did. "...Yes, I'm sure."

Before he knew what was happening, Dan was being hoisted up by Phil's arms, one under his knees and one under his back; he let out a most un-manly squeak as Phil carried him, bridal style, out of the lounge and up the stairs to his room. Dan felt himself slipping as Phil tried to maneuver them sideways up the narrow stairway.

"Phil!" Dan yelped, laughing as Phil readjusted his hold, heaving.

"Wow, we really should like... work out sometime," Phil wheezed. "This would be- so much- easier."

"Jesus on a boat- don't drop me!" Dan nearly shrieked. But before he knew it, they were up the last stair, and Dan was being thrown onto Phil's green-and-blue checkered duvet and kissed like there was no tomorrow. The two made their way under the sheets, unable to see well in the dark, and Dan reflected on how he barely recalled the last time something like this had happened- it was just a whisper of words in his mind, warm brushes of skin, Phil's slim form. Finally, after all these months, he was getting what he'd wanted all along. And he was going to remember it this time.

He didn't have time to address their physical un-fitness; all too soon, his brain had switched back over into one mode of thought: more. He held onto Phil's torso with his legs, letting Phil lie between them with complete trust, something he'd never done except in a wisp of a memory. Phil bit into Dan's bottom lip, and all the sudden, Dan was making an entire range of sounds he never thought he'd make in front of another human being before. He allowed his own hands to do what they wanted, bringing Phil's shirt up and over his head, feeling Phil's long fingers snaking up his body to do the same to him. They broke their lips' union for only a fraction of a second to relive themselves of the garments before they were back to feeling again.

All too soon, Dan felt the stirrings of a familiar electricity in his abdomen, something of a wave threatening to break soon, if only he helped it to crest. He felt Phil kicking off his track pants in a spare breath, and Dan did the same, feeling them get stuck at his ankles and not really giving a shit about it. As long as he received the attention he needed right in that moment, he could care less about what clothes were stuck where.

Phil was moving almost rhythmically above him, breaking their mouths' hold on each other as the sensations flowing between them became too much; they exchanged breaths, gasping as they dragged their bodies together.

Dan clutched at Phil's back, digging his nails in as he felt the tide rising. "Phil-"

And then he was gone, lost to bliss and the sweet scent of Phil.

He heard Phil give a low whine above him, and they shuddered against each other, aiding each other through their highs. They came down, evening out their harsh breaths, Phil coming to rest gingerly in between Dan's legs. It was a few moments before either of them found the energy to say something.

"I love you," Dan whispered into the darkness, still holding tightly onto Phil'd middle.

"I love you too," Phil murmured immediately. "I love you, I love you. I love you."

Dan was glowing, if that were even possible; feeling this, he was sure it was. But as the seconds went by, he become increasingly more and more aware of a problem he hadn't thought to account for before.

"Phil?"

"Yes, love?"

If Dan's face could have gotten more flushed, it would have. "I um... could you get me new pants?"

There was a pause; then Phil giggled, gently drawing back the sheets and removing himself from Dan's form. "Of course. I mean, you could wear some of mine, if you want. That way we can just go to bed."

Dan didn't argue; honestly, he didn't want Phil to leave the room in this moment, or ever, in fact. He felt a pair of underwear hit his face only a moment later. "Hey!"

Phil laughed, but said nothing; a loud shuffling suggested that he was putting on a pair as well. "You can put them on, I won't look," he said when Dan didn't move. "Promise."

Dan peeled off his old pair and put on Phil's, not able to see well enough to know if he was putting them on right way around or not. Phil pulled the duvet back a moment later and slid under the sheets again, and Dan could barely make out the outline of his body.

"It's really dark in your room."

"Yep." Phil's hand found his and squeezed. "Is that okay?"

"Anything's okay right now. God. I love you."

"I love you too, Dan. Goodnight."

And with that, they fell into a blissful, carefree sleep, each completely content in the way their lives were turning out thus far.

~Fin~


End file.
